When Mayflies Went Extinct
by Aldryne21
Summary: Post-apocalyptic world - As the world he once knew slipped through his fingers, Merlin still held hope that Arthur would return. That he became a little more jaded and cynical along the way was to be expected. So when the last link to his past shattered, Merlin wasn't surprised that he broke a bit as well.
1. Prologue: The Passing

**A/N: Some basic knowledge of history might make this more comprehensible. Not beta'ed.**

* * *

 **Prologue: The Passing**

Merlin supposed it was the dragons that first went extinct. Kilgharrah died after living too long shouldering the burden of being the last of his kind for years. Aithusa had quickly withered away after Camlann and Morgana's death never really getting the hang of living to begin with.

One day, a couple of years after Gwen passed on and he had left Camelot for good to guard the lake, a unicorn found its way to him. He petted it affectionately because it reminded him of his adventures with Arthur. When it went away Merlin didn't realize it had come to say goodbye. He never saw a unicorn again.

The Vilia disappeared without a fuss. So did the griffins, the wyverns, the serkets and every other creature he ever encountered. The Sidhe went into hiding first clinging to marshes and other unpleasant places where nobody bothered them. They weren't on speaking terms of course. But before vanishing forever they told Merlin quite vehemently how disappointed they were in him. He couldn't agree more.

Places he knew as a young man became ruins, then dust that was swept away in a puff of wind or were given new names. Arthur was not forgotten but he became a legend and Merlin could scarcely recognize his own friends in those tales. It was so long ago already and sometimes Merlin forgot in which order something had happened. Did he empty the Cup of Life or released the Great Dragon first?

Sometimes he forgot if it happened at all or if the tales he heard were only confusing him. How had Arthur reacted when he found out about Lancelot and Gwen? Where was Leon's role in the tales? And what about the magic? He feared the day when he himself would start to believe that it had only been a story…

Kings and queens ruled on through wars and famines, the Church divided and united, swords were replaced very slowly by loud weapons that made a lot of noise and smoke and had a laughable accuracy for now. Diseases were always present and there was nothing divine nor magical about them anymore.

Merlin found out early on that nature was quite capable of inviting Death to the land all by itself. He burned the bodies of sixty men, women and children when the plague swept through the village he was living in, killing everyone but him. Then he burned the village down as well, moved to the other side of the lake and built himself a cottage out of sight. Many of the dead had been his friends. He vowed never to make that mistake again.

So he lived on aging like everyone else, distant from others besides the occasional acquaintances he couldn't shake off. And when he got that old that even he felt like standing on Death's door he closed his eyes in the darkness of the night. Only to find himself young again at dawn when the sun woke him up. He honed his lying skills every time it happened but the truth was that nobody was paying him any attention.

The forests and woods became less dangerous with time. Paths were well trod on and travelling was encouraged. Explorers circumnavigated the planet, the earth was measured, species were classified and distant stars discovered. Maps made the world feel a little less magical because it became a world without secrets. Merlin tried not to cringe at the irony of that thought.

Men dug deep into the dirt, finding minerals, fuel and ancient bones of creatures that Merlin never even knew existed. The amount of fossils could only point to mass extinctions some said. That thought made Merlin shudder. And as the age of the earth was debated Merlin felt very young for the first time in centuries.

They never found remains of magical creatures though or if someone did it was no doubt explained away by other wise men and logical reasoning. Magic only had a place in the minds of children or between the pages of books. Science and society had no time for such nonsense. There were more people now and more ideas and everything connected to everything else and the world was set in a forward motion.

Merlin had managed to follow the technical advancements easily until the end of the eighteenth century. Then the pace quickened and he began to feel like the old man he truly was. In a hundred years' time whole societies changed. It was the weirdest thing to observe and although he had some good times in Vienna, London and Paris he never shared the optimism of his contemporary acquaintances.

By the turn of the century it became quite clear that Europe was racing towards something and while Merlin devoured one newspaper after the other where patriotism and a weapons race went hand in hand, he wasn't worried. Surely in the midst of a continental war Arthur would rise again. Surely amidst this much division and hate the Once and Future King would be needed. He had hope and went home again.

Arthur never came.

And Merlin watched how thousands of young men massacred themselves obeying their superiors and praised ideals for a bare strip of earth. Again and again and again as a storm surge that couldn't be stopped. For four years the world's most civil nations hacked themselves to pieces and when it was over and the guns were silent and the bombs buried underneath the earth, Europe had brought itself to its knees.

When living for so long, time sometimes plays funny tricks with your mind. Merlin remembered sailing to the New World early in the sixteenth century. He had been curious – an emotion that had been dulled with time – wanting to see those places he heard such wild stories about for himself. Those months on that tiny wooden ship were the longest he ever experienced after his days in Camelot.

After the First World War however Merlin had the feeling that he had only blinked and Europe was already unavoidably heading towards another, even more destructive one. After years of watching how men and societies worked he didn't need a crystal to tell him what was to come. It was painfully obvious.

Anger, hate and cruelty went hand in hand again and it was with some shame that Merlin hid in his little cottage near the lake while London was bombarded nightly. The inhabitants of the nearest village gave the old man he was only a passing glance as he sat day in day out by the lake waiting. He was afraid that if he left he would miss his King's return.

But even in his solitude he couldn't keep out what was going on outside his small sanctuary. New heroes stood up when ancient ones disappointed. Most of them died before others even learned their names, some however were on their way of becoming legends themselves. Photographs had been around for decades, radio was flourishing and now it became hard to imagine a world without moving pictures. Life had never been this documented.

So it was hard to miss when England and its allies started winning, when Germany capitulated and foreign flags were planted on top of the Reichstag. It was also hard to miss when two faraway cities were suddenly turned to ash. It signalled the end of the war but Merlin felt far from celebrating. As he looked at the pictures of that already famous mushroom-shaped cloud he couldn't help but fear what was coming next.

He glanced out of the window while slowly folding his newspaper close again. The lake was dark and still in the bleak August rain. For the first time in centuries Merlin wished Arthur wouldn't come back.

* * *

 **Any thoughts? Suggestions? Next chapter will have another from Merlin's POV.**


	2. Chapter 1: The Day And After

**A/N: Not beta'ed and IDOM! Thanks for the reviews, alerts, etc.! If you know the date of The Day without peeking to the bottom of the chapter, you earned yourself a cookie! :)  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: The Day And After**

It was a dreary and cold day. If Merlin didn't know better he would have guessed it was November instead of June. Since the last week of May the weather was trying to convince everyone it was Autumn already. Not that Merlin cared one way or the other but he did dislike being soaked so after cutting some more wood – really this was England, he should have been prepared for this spell of bad weather – he hurried back inside his quaint cottage.

The small house was perfect for him. On three sides there were clean rectangular windows with shutters on the outside and curtains on the inside. There were rather bigger than the usual style of this type of house but Merlin needed a clear view on the lake. Opposite of the heavy wooden door, against the other wall, was a hearth that warmed up the whole place in all seasons – including summer something that had slipped his mind.

There was a small kitchen area that was still very medieval as he had no electric appliances with one notable exception. Across the kitchen was another door that led to his bedroom. The door was opened now so he could see his bed adorned with colourful quilt that he bought on the local market last year. Other furniture were a couple of bookcases, a rickety table, a few chairs and one really comfortable one that was placed right beside the fire. The truly rare stuff that he had horded and collected over the years was stocked one floor up in the attic.

It was not much and nothing special, but for Merlin this place was home.

He kicked off his boots and hung his sodden socks on the metal grate in front of the fire. The wood was a bit wet of course and it sizzled when he put another log on the fire to keep the humidity out at least. By the time that he had changed into a dry woollen jumper and started to towel his dark hair the room was nicely warm once more. Magic might have helped…

With a content sigh of one who had everything he needed within reach Merlin sank back down in his comfy chair and stretched his bare feet in front of him on the rug. The rough fabric felt familiar and thus comfortable and after a golden flash of his eyes his previously abandoned cup of tea boiled again. Careful not to burn himself, because after all this time he was still pants at healing his own hurts, he sipped the hot liquid.

In the background the radio was playing. There would be another coronation today* and even Merlin, despite his aloofness nowadays, couldn't ignore everything that was happening outside. Besides if he really wanted to remain a hermit – scruffy beard included – he shouldn't have purchased the modern device. But he loved the music or even the sound of the radio hosts because then living here didn't feel so lonely.

He'd been living in his own house as the newly returned grandson of his older self for seven years now. And as always his lie had been accepted without problems. The only thing he hadn't calculated in this time was that since England just came out of a yearlong war, young men in backward villages like the one on the other side of the lake were rare. So he had garnered some unusual attention.

The girls however, no matter how beautiful or friendly they were, were nothing more than mayflies compared to him. And while he had lived as a hermit for the better part of his immortal life he hadn't exactly lived as a monk. But he never made promises he couldn't keep – learned that the hard way the first time – so now after seven years he was once again left to his solitude.

A sudden noise disrupted his thoughts. The radio seemed to falter. Something was interfering with the man's voice just as he was reporting about the start of the procession. Merlin got up reluctantly and dragged his feet to the radio set while making a note to get himself some dry socks since the floor was cold.

He switched the radio off and on and turned the buttons left and right. The noise stayed the same although now he could hear garbled words that made no sense. Merlin sighed knowing very well that using magic wouldn't solve anything. His last set might have exploded that way. So he picked it up, turned it over and over and then shook it as a last resort. He supposed it helped a bit. The distorted noise was louder now.

It was by chance that he looked out of the windows right then. The gesture was such a habit that Merlin never really thought about it twice. He never had seen the lake do that though. A second later the radio crashed to the ground broken beyond repair but Merlin hadn't even noticed. He hadn't even noticed that he ran out without shoes or socks clumsily stumbling through the high grass to reach the lake.

The hem of his trousers were soaked with mud by the time he reached the shore. And a sudden wave drenched him almost completely as the lake had turned into on big mass of reeling water more white than black at the moment. Merlin stepped back in awe just in time before a second wave crashed at his feet. He had no idea what was happening and with a grin he couldn't quite hold back he waited, nervously anticipating what would come next.

There was a strange noise swelling in the distance like the sound you hear when you're standing to close to an arriving train or a overflying aeroplane. He frowned half expecting to hear the air raid sirens next. What he didn't expect was the Tor to suddenly disappear from the middle of the lake. One moment it was there and the next it was gone, swallowed up by the earth and water.

Instinctively Merlin crouched down filling his sight with a golden haze as a heartbeat later an enormous mass of water passed over his quickly formed bubble. He tried to keep himself steady on the ground but the soft mud sucked at his feet and before he knew it he was falling.

He didn't know where he was falling towards but being buried under tons and tons of dirt was not acceptable. He tried to cry out a spell before the air ran out, before swallowing a lungful of mud hindered him. For the first time in centuries Merlin felt fear for his own life. A ridiculous distraction as he couldn't die.

That thought didn't reassure him at all when the dark mass of water, dirt and rock pressed into him from all sides, when he had no longer any notion of what was up or down, when the suffocating burn of water and bile filled his nostrils…

* * *

Merlin startled awake with a sudden painful gasp and the feeling that he had just been trampled on by a horde of angry griffins, a comparison that lost its meaning ages ago. So he blinked his eyes open forcing himself to wake up completely. It wouldn't do to dwell on what was lost. It was still light so with some luck no time had passed at all. He sincerely hoped that he hadn't been unconscious for a day or even longer.

Groaning he tried to move so he was laying down less awkwardly. His left arm had been twisted underneath his back and the joint popped noisily when he pulled it out from under his own weight. He couldn't move his legs but as he could wiggle his bare toes he wasn't too worried yet.

After a while, when his headache had eased a bit, he felt steady enough to drag himself up. Moving still hurt but Merlin was positive that he only had some small cuts and bruises. It was still raining listlessly though and he shivered. His drenched clothes didn't warm him at all and soon he would need to find shelter or he would be sneezing for days. First things first, where was he?

Nothing looked even the slightest bit familiar. As far as he could see – without using his magic since he felt too drained – there was nothing but destruction in every direction he looked. Using the lighter spot in the clouds where he suspected the sun was as the only means to orientate himself Merlin turned around on his axis. To the north and west he saw the flattened ruins of a forest. Nearly no tree was still standing upright and the splintered wood was half buried under, half sticking out of the mud.

To the south were faraway hills. The distance between him and those hills was filled with strangely shaped things and puddles of mud. Merlin squinted his eyes which widened a second later as he recognized one of those nearest odd things as a upturned lorry. But it was what he saw to the east that made him reconsider the idea that he was awake after all.

A colossal chasm stretched out right in front of him, easily a few miles wide in every direction. Water streamed over the edges like murky coloured waterfalls taking whatever debris on its way down with the flood. There was a loud groaning sound when first the heavily leaved crown and then the root of an ancient tree were pulled into the ravine just a few yards from where he was standing.

He was in shock Merlin belatedly realized when it took seeing another dozen trees to disappear to snap him out of this frozen trance. The edges were caving in. Seeing nothing of use within reach he turned around and hurried as quickly as he could towards the west. The sound of the earth swallowing up everything that had been home to him haunted him for miles to come.

* * *

As he walked on and on, forcing one foot in front of the other, his thoughts quickly narrowed to the point where finding shelter was the only thing that mattered. Time lost its meaning as he struggled through the devastated landscape. In the end he stumbled upon it by chance. Makeshift tents had been pitched amidst ruined houses and fires were lit as people waited to be rescued. When Merlin walked into the small camp he was immediately handed a blanket and a hot bowl of soup. The questions came later.

Where did he come from? Did he saw other survivors? Are we the only ones left? Did he know anything about what was going on out there? What did he think happened? Was it just an earthquake or did the soviets do something?*

Merlin had no answers. So far as he knew the twenty odd people here were the only ones left. The radio was silent and so was the television. One of the men tried to repair a radio set but all he received was noise. The phone lines were dead and roads inaccessible. The next day a family of four arrived. Now the camp counted two children. Merlin considered it a small miracle. He wasn't being picky at the moment.

Food was running out quickly though and it became quite clear that nobody was coming to their rescue. So after stretching his aching arms and legs Merlin began giving orders and was surprised to be obeyed without hesitation. In hindsight he should have known that everyone was waiting for someone to give directions.

Scouring the nearby ruins was an ungrateful task. Just like burning the bodies he found along the way through the wreckage. And when someone recognized one of the deceased, Merlin felt like a complete outsider amidst their grief. He never realized it but part of the reason why everyone accepted his leadership so easily was that he remained so stoic. To be honest, he just felt numb.

Finding a black oilskin jacket and a pair of boots that nearly fitted on his explorations was another small miracle. With two pair of thick socks they almost felt like his own. It was pathetic though. He had caused thunderstorms and earthquakes in the past, feats that were completely undesirable now, but he couldn't make his shoes fit perfectly with the use of magic.

Months passed and slowly the lingering miasma of death evaporated. Their small camp grew with twelve more people. Eleven walked into the camp the same way Merlin had during the first week after the earthquake. Nobody arrived later except the twelfth which was a tiny baby boy Merlin helped deliver when the time came, another small miracle.

Living for more years without than with modern tools Merlin succeeded in organising their little settlement to survive their first winter. The days grew colder and colder however and when the first snow fell it wasn't white but grey. His magic was acting up as well making it utterly unreliable at times. That more than anything else wasn't a good sign.

One freezing night on what he estimated was the beginning of February, one of the lookouts woke him up urgently. Merlin hurried to the edge of the camp careful not to slip on the patches of ice. On the horizon a red glow loomed threateningly. There was an odd breeze in the air and the next moment he smelled it: smoke. Before first light they were packed and moving away.

Nobody can outrun flames on foot however. So when he saw no other choice Merlin "found" a cave in the middle of nowhere and if someone saw his eyes glow golden as the fiery storm raged above them, they didn't say a thing. After the fires ravaged the abandoned lands, Merlin dared to hope that it was over. Surely this nightmare would end?

How Merlin cursed his optimism later…

One of the children was the first to become sick. How it happened was a mystery. Maybe this sickness had lingered in a shallow pool or droughty cave? Or it came with the rain or the wind? Or their food or water? Or perhaps the child had simply weakened without anyone noticing? Nobody knew what was going on except that it was contagious.

For three days the child ran an alarmingly high fever and coughed up bloody mucus. Desperate not to lose any of those under his protection Merlin didn't even hide his magic anymore. He shouted spell after spell, tried every trick he remembered from as far back as his days as Gaius' aide. But nothing helped. It was useless. He was useless.

The boy died and Merlin was forced to bury the child himself as both of the boy's parents had caught the same sickness. They were so delirious they never even knew they lost a child before dying as well. Nine days passed and in the end there were four people, himself included, who survived that particular hell. It was something that boggled his mind.

For instance there was no explicable reason why the infant had survived as both the young and the old were always the most susceptible to diseases. He and his young mother however never even became sick. The other survivor, a young man who could have been his own age if Merlin had been normal, became feverish but not as severely as the others. He recovered completely except for a lingering cough.

The four of them roamed the cold countryside living on the things they found in ruined towns, never settling anywhere for more than a few days. There were weeks when there was no difference between the days and the nights. Both were cold, dark and gave them the feeling they were alone on the world as heavy clouds blotted out the sun.

They weren't. Big black birds screeched as they flew over. Merlin found tracks of large dogs, or at least hoped they were from dogs, but at night when his mind was in that odd place between resting and dreaming he could've sworn he heard howling. Neither animal caused him to worry too much but sometimes the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly rose without reason. At those times he could've sworn that they were being watched.

He never shared his thoughts with his travelling companions, in fact he rarely spoke to them. Living was hard enough without the added burden of his special brand of paranoia. Merlin suspected he appeared quite mad at times. He sure felt crazy.

For now they were headed towards London. Merlin estimated they were getting closer to the city every day and the odd road sign that survived seemed to support that thought. Maybe in the capitol more people had survived? At least this region of England had been more populated in comparison to the handful small villages and towns near his lake.

An enormous chasm forced them to turn back however. It was at the very least ten times bigger than the one at his lake and walking around it to the city could be only called a hopeless endeavour. Merlin suspected that a large part if not all of the County of London* was buried in that seemingly bottomless pit. To be honest, Merlin could see the bottom, it was just so far down that it made him dizzy and nauseous.

They wandered on aimlessly after that.

Meanwhile the infant was growing into a curious toddler who made all of them smile. And every time the boy giggled when Merlin conjured a shiny ball of light, the warlock felt himself healing a bit. He knew the others felt the same. More than a year had passed since the earthquake and by now Merlin was sure the natural disaster hadn't struck just Great Britain or even Europe. What exactly had happened was still a mystery but that it had been a global event was something Merlin was certain about.

That theory of his became even stronger when the weather turned deathly. One day the wind picked up. Not even an hour later the three adults were struggling to remain upright as the storm grew worse with every passing minute. By then Merlin had cradled the child safely to his chest, thrust into his hands without hesitation. Later he had always wondered if the mother knew.

He didn't know when exactly he lost sight of her or the young man. One moment they were just gone.

He waited for days in a hastily fabricated shelter burrowed into the ground as the storm raged on. The boy cried silently for his mother and Merlin felt powerless. Once he might have been the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth but, truth to be told, this forsaken place didn't feel like the earth he'd been born on. The storm quieted after a week and if it hadn't been for his magic they would have starved to death. They headed north again this time.

Late one night, when he kept watch over the sleeping child and made the flames of their campfire take the shapes of extinct creatures, Merlin allowed himself to think about his cursed destiny. The weight of waiting just left him bone-tired by now. And rationally he knew that all was already lost. The lake was gone and with it Arthur's last resting place. He looked up from the fire when an impressive shower of shooting stars passed overhead. This phenomenon had been a rare occurrence in the past but ever since that pivotal day they were as common as… He sighed as he ran out of ideas to compare it to.

When another shooting star crossed the sky Merlin wished it all to be over.

* * *

 **So basically this was the most depressing part of the story, it will get better! Next chapter: Scavenger...  
**

* The coronation of Queen Elizabeth II was on 2 June 1953. (and now the date where the world as we know it ceased to exist…)

* While Stalin died earlier in 1953 the West still feared the U.S.S.R. to conquer all... (This might be an exaggeration but this was during the Cold War.)

* The County of London precedes Greater London and was smaller, the later replacing the administrative counties in 1965. (which will never happen here…) Some trivia according to Wikipedia: in 1911 the territory of the county was 74,813 acres or 302.77 km² with a population of more than four million people. This would have dropped down significantly due to the two World Wars and people moving out of the urban areas instead of towards them. Still, imagine the scale of destruction…


	3. Chapter 2: Scavenger

**A/N: Make note, major time jump** **between the previous chapter and this one! And thank you all for your lovely response! IDOM...  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Scavenger**

 _8 January 1978_

A lone figure stood at the edge of the cliff. His face was almost completely covered by a thick woollen scarf and black hood. Only two blue eyes and a strip of skin were visible in between making it hard to guess his age. So close to the edge the icy wind yanked sharply at his clothes but the man hardly noticed. The patched-up uniform trousers and old pilot jacket protected him from the worst of it but, when he had to tug off his gloves to undo the knots of the rope he'd been carrying his fingers turned red in no time.

Across of him, two miles out and almost half a mile lower, an odd structure nestled securely against the steep cliff walls. The rather convenient shape of the plateau he was standing on had protected the building from the most destructive storms. The ragged C-shape cut out in the landscape gave the castle-like construction safety from three sides. From his position on higher ground it looked rather small but climbing to the watchtower would take him a minute running on full speed.

That was the only place above ground that was more or less permanently inhabited. The other outer buildings were empty, stripped from all useful items excepts those that could be stocked in open air. All the glass windows had been shattered before he was born after all. Underground, in the former labs, storage rooms, utility areas and a maze of corridors, that's where home was.

The very existence of the former factory and research centre was considered a miracle or a lucky happenstance depending on who you asked. When the earthquake hit and tore the land apart the whole site was near perfectly preserved, just half a mile lower than before. The damage was minimal and so was the loss of life. From the original thirty-five men, women and children who were there at the time only two died instantly.

In the last twenty-five years the small settlement had expanded and shrunk continuously. Other survivors had been found or found their own way to the former buildings of Project Pendragon. Babies were born of course and due inexplicable luck the great fires bypassed them. However some people left after a while anxious to find their families. They never came back so no one knew if their search had been successful or not.

They didn't escape the worsening weather though which caught those outside by surprise forcing them to live mostly underground after that. Nor did they escape the sickness which killed many of all ages twice, once in 1962 and the second disastrous time in 1970. Fatal accidents also happened though not very often. And every loss of life was mourned heavily. The graves were lined against the cliff so that the worse winds bypassed the little graveyard as the dead were buried instead of burned. Wood was too sparse to use.

Growing food themselves had varying success depending on the year and it was never enough to feed everyone for long. So the ruins of nearby towns had to be stripped of every edible or other useful thing like matches, petrol, tools, medical supplies, warm clothes and so on to survive. After some time that meant travelling further and further away. And then in 1974 a group of four went missing when they were out to scavenge for essentials. Ever since then capable volunteers to venture outside had dwindled into single digits.

By now the man had tied the rope to his backpack and the small metal trunk he'd been carrying and carefully lowered the bundle down the cliffs. He used a protruding rock to anchor himself straining his muscles to make sure the descend went as smoothly as possible. As the rope passed through his gloved hands however he eyed the fraying edges with worry, already making a note to find more on his next scavenger hunt.

Suddenly the long rope slackened which was good news actually since it meant he wouldn't have to swing the supplies in order to find a resting place halfway down. Well, halfway was an exaggeration, he'll probably end up lowering the load two more times before hitting the plain below. After a quick glance making sure they were laying someplace stable, he tied the other end of the rope to his belt, gave the protruding rock another kick to make sure it was still secure and climbed over the edge.

* * *

"Sir?"

Uther Pendragon, owner and manager of Project Pendragon until 1953, looked up from the mess of maps scattered across his desk. After the earthquake he had become the de facto leader of the survivors in this settlement which had been fondly coined 'the Citadel' in the months after the disaster.

He suspected Geoffrey of letting his imagination run loose. Just looking at the maps the old archivist had drawn up – after the old ones were proclaimed useless – confirmed that theory. Naming a particularly foul looking wasteland north of here the Perilous Lands was rather redundant while simultaneously being perfectly unambiguous.

Uther motioned Leon to enter with his right hand while clenching his walking-stick with his other until the knuckles of his fist were bone white. It was a nervous habit he had picked up fifteen years ago ever since he had been forced to use it. That he was sitting down didn't impede the habit. After all, he had to have it within reach. And that he had been anxious and on edge since yesterday morning only strengthened the force. Did he dare hope for good news?

"The lookout spotted Arthur climbing down towards the plain. He was already halfway to the bottom so he'll probably arrive within the hour." The young man offered immediately.

Uther sighed deeply not bothering to hide his relief. He rarely let others see his emotions but matters concerning his children had always been the known exception. The only time he had been really tempted to shoot someone was when Vivien threatened to take Morgana away from the Citadel. The woman had turned mad with grief after losing Gorlois and her son to the sickness in 1962.

They had a hell of a fight near the graves in front of everyone where _everything_ was revealed. That earned him a well-deserved slap from his wife who then took a crying Morgana and very confused Arthur back inside. In the end Vivien couldn't be dissuaded and she left taking her oldest daughter with her.

He should probably have forced her to stay or at least forced her to leave Morgause behind, but at that time – and only then – he had been relieved she left. Morgana forgave him eventually though he did find out how stubborn a six-year-old could be when holding a grudge. And a seven-year old and an eight-year-old. Those were long years of often sleeping in his office.

In the end it was more Ygraine's and Arthur's easy acceptance than anything he did to try to appease his daughter which finally earned him her forgiveness. That and the fact Morgana grew up to be a level-headed young woman – most of the time. Because they never did hear anything of Vivien and Morgause again. The thought that he nearly lost Morgana as well still gives him nightmares.

When the sickness came for the second time it was cruel irony that made him lose Ygraine. Arthur thought it was karma and hated him for it.

"Thank you, Leon. Do intercept my son and tell him I want to see him immediately."

The young man nodded and had already turned away when Uther called him back, "And Leon? As always, you can call me by my given name." He reminded the young man yet again. He assumed Leon forgot it on purpose every time. If only others were this polite while being wilfully defiant…

Uther massaged his temples after Leon left already dreading the upcoming talk with his errant son. He reminded himself that Arthur's absence wasn't a rare occurrence, quite the opposite in fact, and that the boy had no idea what was going on. Scolding him would do no good and have no effect whatsoever on his twenty-year-old son. In fact the talk would serve no purpose at all except to see his boy.

Arthur had been such a sweet and caring young child while growing up, so much like his mother, all smiles and with a head filled with imagination. Forcing Arthur to grow up quickly was something he sincerely regretted at times. It seemed necessary then but Uther dearly missed the evenings where Arthur begged for yet another bedtime story. Or came to bother him in the middle of something important just to show him his growing penmanship.

These days he never bothered Uther anymore. In fact Arthur tried very hard to ignore him and had so for years. But regardless of their tempestuous relationship now, Uther knew that if given a second chance he would still demand Arthur to excel, to push his limits because the boy had in fact faced so many dangers during the past years. The world was an unforgiven place after all.

But despite all those hardships and against all odds his boy was still alive. More than that, he thrived. The truth was that Uther had sacrificed everything for that goal including the affection of his son. But while cold respect was a poor replacement the sacrifice didn't seem that huge when Arthur was yet again safely on his way home.

* * *

Finding your way to what once was only jokingly called the Citadel was rather easy. After crossing the wide plain which looked broader than it was and a lot flatter from a higher vantage point you only had to skip stones to cross the narrow stream near the building. This was a lot easier now than in summer when the waterfall running down the cliffs grew tenfold and most stones disappeared below the water level. Once upon a time it used to be a quiet brook.

Arthur had a hard time imagining this as he skilfully stepped from rock to rock. Even now the fast running water splashed up underneath his feet. Once inside the sheltered walls of the complex he pulled his scarf down and brushed his hood back. The gesture made his short blond hair stick up a bit.

In the Citadel itself there were only two doors left above ground. One led towards the watchtower which used to be the factory's chimney when it was still operational. Clever redesigning had made it an excellent viewpoint and Arthur had spent many comfortable days and nights manning the post. Ever since he was a child he had enjoyed the wide view and could often be found there instead of underground, keeping whoever was actually guarding the place company.

The other door was actually a slanted hatchway made of very thick steel that looked completely out of place in the deserted corridors of what could only be described as dull office buildings. However it was underground that the real business of Project Pendragon had occurred something his father and the other former employees were keeping mum about.

Years ago, when he was a great deal more naïve, Arthur had imagined they used to build rockets down there like the one in Verne's _Around The Moon_. The door certainly looked like it came straight out of the novel. It even had a turning wheel as a handle. Once opened he flicked the switch in the hallway repeatedly but the bottom of the stairs remained dark. He used the daylight for now to carry the trunk down, his eyes already growing used to the lack of light.

As he hurried back up to close the hatchway again Arthur fumbled to find his dynamo-powered torch. He had put it somewhere in his backpack, no doubt at the very bottom, when an amused voice startled him.

"Need a light?"

Arthur looked down and answered relieved, "Leon, yes, your timing is spot on as usual."

The man was a few years older than him and utterly reliable as he demonstrated just now. His friend walked up a few steps and raised the oil lamp so Arthur could seal the door hermetically. The sound of the latches and mechanisms falling into places echoed down the hallway.

"Your father wants to see you immediately." His friend also didn't beat around the bush.

Arthur groaned and pulled the backpack to his front resuming his search for his own source of light. He should have been expecting this. Well, he had been expecting this just not so soon. Leave it to Leon to track him down the second he returned to the Citadel.

"Are we back to torches again?" He asked instead of reacting to Leon's message.

"For now." The other man said, "Electricity failed this morning. Tom says it's nothing to worry about. You know how it goes, he and Olaf are trying to find that one broken lamp again. It flickered on and off the first hours but I guess they found the problem and are fixing it now. Robbie's been running around all morning of course after being roped into playing their messenger boy."

"Like you have been." Arthur remarked dryly as he readjusted his backpack once more and put the small torch inside his pocket for later use.

"He was rather insistent." His friend stated without specifying who they were talking about. After all, it was pretty obvious.

"Of course he was." Arthur muttered quietly to himself. That was the main reason he went out so much. Already planning to stall as long as possible he crouched down and clicked the metal box open. Leon helpfully held the lamp closer while Arthur unnecessarily checked if everything was still packed safely.

"I can't believe you snuck out again." Leon started but Arthur turned and raised his hands in defeat, "Not you as well, Leon. My father's lecture will have to suffice."

"Fair enough." The other man relented before frowning as he noticed what was lacking, "Don't you usually carry a sword when you go out?"

"I lost it." Arthur said failing to sound petulantly. He had liked that sword.

"What do you mean you-"

"Look, I'll go speak with my father as soon as I can." He said bending the truth a little as he rose up again, "And if you could take these samples to my sister you'll save me fifteen minutes." Arthur said knowing very well he had to resort to drastic measure to distract Leon from inquiring more. He handed his friend two plastic sacks with dirt in them before the latter could protest. Almost invisible amidst the earth were two tiny saplings.

"Any idea what they are?"

"None whatsoever."

"It looks promising. She'll be pleased." Leon remarked, "Just not with you." The man added and gave him a look that told Arthur without a doubt that they weren't done talking about this losing-his-sword-incident even if Leon seemingly let it go for the moment. Well, Arthur considered it a win for now. After all he wasn't planning to keep what happened a secret. He just preferred telling it only once.

"Better me than Morgana sneaking out." He raised.

"Careful with that. If she hears you…" Leon trailed off before casting worried glances in every direction as if expecting Morgana to suddenly appear. Arthur knew when he was being mocked however and punched Leon's arm.

"One time she disarms me." He said and emphasized, "One time and nobody ever lets me forget that."

"It was rather spectacular." The other man said grinning at the memory. Since ammunition was scarce most of the younger generation carried a sword as protection. Swords, daggers, battle axes, even crossbows were all things that Arthur's father had collected once upon a time so they had still plenty of those. Wasting a bullet to teach someone to shoot accurately was just that: a waste.

The first years after the earthquake the weapons had been sitting in the vault downstairs collecting dust amidst ancient books and other antiquities Geoffrey had convinced his father to collect. Not that the man needed much convincing. Apparently amassing so much old stuff you could start your own museum was the thing to do for well-off businessmen and part of converging with the upper-social echelons. No doubt Uther had planned to donate some of his collection to a museum one day, trading it for a gold-plated plaque with his name on and the chance of being at the centre of a grand opening night.

"Since you're determined to keep going on about my sister…" Arthur said as he started to smile rather unnervingly.

"I'm not!" Leon spluttered feebly, which Arthur ignored and just went on, "When are you going to drop on one knee and pop the question?"

"Never," He sighed, "Morgana finds marriage a masculine yoke designed to squash freedom and romance while giving it the illusionary appearance of being just that."

"Wow, really?" Arthur asked impressed.

"Yes, she's clearly against it." Leon said sounding positively miserable and it took some self-discipline on Arthur's part not to laugh.

So with a completely straight face he clarified, "No, I meant: really you memorized what she said? That's actually kind of sad."

Okay, so maybe the corners of his mouth did tug upwards, Arthur conceded when Leon glared at him. The other man didn't take the bait though. Instead Leon sighed again, "Even if she agreed your father would kill me."

"Dramatic much?" Arthur actually scoffed, "He likes you. Have you forgotten he has known you since you had like only ten teeth and wobbly knees? And believe me, at this moment he prefers you."

"Just because you never do what you're told." Leon stated easily. Arthur shrugged not bothering to deny the truth and picked up the trunk again as they started to walk side by side towards the end of the corridor. Great and smaller pipes along the right wall and ceiling showed the way.

"Even so, if I have to listen to one more '…and Leon would never…' monologue of his," Arthur's impersonation of Uther's disapproving tone of voice was eerily correct, "I might need to trip him down the stairs."

"Arthur!"

"Or knock myself unconscious. It's a toss-up." He added sounding completely serious while mentally laughing at Leon's indignant expression.

"It's not a joke." His friend said shaking his head disapprovingly.

"It is, just a poor one." Arthur grinned.

"Explain to me how it's possible that Gwaine's rubbing off on you while you continuously go out of your way to avoid him."

"That's not my fault. He avoids me as well which suits me perfectly as I happen to like how I look. Don't need Gwaine to rearrange my face again…" Arthur muttered that last part nearly wincing at the memory.

"To be fair, you did knock him out first." Leon pointed out.

"For a good reason." Arthur reminded him. Even knowing the consequences he would do it again in a heartbeat.

"We all know that. On some level even Gwaine knows that. Just give him some more time to admit it."

"It's been almost four years already." Arthur remarked unnecessarily as Leon had been running interference all this time and knew perfectly well how bloody long it's taking Gwaine to forgive him.

"Well, nobody's claiming Gwaine's not stubborn. You could almost say it's a common trait around here." Leon shared this observation freely as they stopped at the spot where the corridor split up in two directions.

Again Arthur knew he was being mocked, but before he managed to find a suitable retort Leon startled him by giving him something between a hug and a slap on his shoulder. It was quite awkward as he was still carrying the metal box and Leon almost smashed the lamp against his head.

"By gods, Arthur, I'm glad you're back safely." His friend exclaimed after pulling back, looking and sounding uncharacteristically emotional all of a sudden. Yet again, before Arthur had a chance, Leon hurried to add and promised, "We'll talk later, better get these plants to Morgana before they wither…"

With that he left and Arthur watched his friend's retreating back in the growing darkness. With a sigh and not sure what to make of that ominous parting, Arthur took out his torch. The familiar winding sound of the dynamo accompanied him as he turned into the opposite direction.

Great, he wasn't even back for fifteen minutes and already the world outside made a lot more sense. That was no longer true though, Arthur reconsidered as he turned another corner. This latest scavenger hunt had proved that irreversibly.

* * *

 **A/N: From now on I'll be introducing more characters including some OC's to inhabited my barren world. Just consider them the extra's we saw in** _ **Merlin**_ **… As well as revealing what happened between The Day and our current date. I'm planning to do it slowly as to make it as comprehensible as possible but if you have questions don't hesitate to ask. I'll clarify it with pleasure if the plot allows it : )**

 **Also most of the characters don't act like they did in canon. However they do have valid reasons for being who they are. For example Uther will hopefully be a much more likeable character who even in the show loved his son (discounting 5x03 and really, did they had to make a bigger caricature of him by destroying his only redeemable characteristic?) because he never started the Great Purge.**

 **Any thoughts? Likes, dislikes?**


	4. Chapter 3: Citizens of the Citadel

**A/N: No matter how much I love making you all squirm, my aim is to make you smile this time... This turned out to be a much longer chapter however and hopefully you won't end up feeling too overwhelmed with the information overload. IDOM**

 **Thank you all for your reactions! : )**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Citizens of the Citadel**

8 January 1978

"No candles!" Geoffrey warned without looking up from his book as Arthur pushed his way into the man's room. It conveniently doubled as the library and study of the Citadel. In truth it had been an archive first, packed with things like payroll registers and supply orders but those papers had been used up by now. The filing cabinets had stayed though and had been filled with books over the years. No doubt the man's dream of living in a library had been fulfilled.

"You know I wouldn't dare." Arthur replied kindly as he set his trunk down on the nearest school desk. The room was only sparsely lit with one tiny lamp, an ingenious design of Tom which used gravity, a bag of sand and a winding mechanism to provide light for a very short period. The archivist had commandeered the prototype as soon as the engineer began to work on more practical models. However Arthur suspected that if all else failed, Geoffrey would just teach himself braille to continue to read.

The old man looked up and smiled widely, "Arthur! Come in, come in." He added needlessly as he got up from behind his desk. He rose with some difficulty but nevertheless waved Arthur off when the young man rushed to help his old teacher.

Geoffrey was the one who had vowed to teach every child their letters and numbers. After they conquered that task he send them off to Gaius, Alice or Helen to learn more but he'd been everyone's first teacher. For a short time the man's love for books had rubbed off on Arthur as well who still remembered those short carefree years with a smile.

"You brought me presents." Geoffrey stated quite happily and hobbled towards the trunk. Arthur watched the old man fondly as he studied the books intently. He acted quite demented sometimes but the young man knew the oldest resident of the Citadel still had a sharp mind. No doubt acting like the old man of eighty he was gave him a lot of leeway. For instance having a coughing fit in the middle of an argument during council meetings was a fool proof method for diffusing tension.

"Only three this time but I marked the place on my map so I'll get more later." Arthur admitted. When weighing what to take back to the Citadel, frivolous things – as someone once called them – like books were never ranked high. Geoffrey knew this of course and was just happy with every addition no matter how long he had to wait for another title. There was no rush. He was resolved to live for a century after all, that seemed like a nice round number.

"Never mind, my boy." He said congenially and asked, "Did you have someone specific in mind when you chose these?"

" _The War of The Worlds_ for Alan and Lewis of course." Arthur explained.*

"You want to restart their argument again." Geoffrey stated dryly.

"You have to admit them speculating if the Martians caused the earthquake was very amusing."

"I remember they broke it off when neither of them remembered the plot completely." Geoffrey chuckled already looking forward to another round of debate.

"And this one?" He held up a copy of _The Secret Garden_ before placing it down beside the trunk next to the other one.

"Susan?"

"She'll love it." The old man nodded approvingly knowing Gaius' granddaughter would treasure it.

He paused at the third book however. The milky white leather-bound copy of _Poetical Works of John Keats_ was a fine edition from 1906 or 1907 if he remembered correctly. Geoffrey opened it in the middle and leaved through the book stopping on the spot where the green silk page-marker rested. It was one of the poets' letters to Fanny Brawne.

He gazed back at Arthur who shifted uneasily under the sudden scrutiny and asked, "Are you certain you don't want to give this to her yourself? Instead of waiting until she finds it on the shelves?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, you silly old man." Arthur deflected good-naturedly and snapped the trunk close again, "I have to deliver the rest of this stuff to Gaius."

He hurried out before Geoffrey had a chance to comment, or worse, started to grin knowingly.

* * *

The trip to the company's former lab and current infirmary was a solitary one. Arthur suspected most of the inhabitants were either in the kitchen area or the Main Court, in both places a small yet practically perpetual fire burned. He knew Gaius would be there though. Like Geoffrey the man didn't have living quarters apart from his lab and infirmary anymore but unlike the archivist, Gaius had slept in the lab long before the earthquake struck.

Maybe Alice, his wife and lifelong match to his brilliancy, would be there as well. The Brewer pair had been Project Pendragon's lead scientists and their self-made concoctions had saved lives in the past. Alice however had another talent, Arthur reflected which meant she was probably down in the Main Court right now entertaining the youngest ones with stories. With the lights out there was not much else to do.

Alice and Rya, Tom's wife, were the Citadel's unofficial storytellers though once upon a time he and Morgana had made them certificates. It had been an equal partnership as his sister could already write by then. So Arthur had drawn crooked rectangular shapes, the books of course, on the papers and carefully coloured between the lines. Both of them had presented the "official documents" proudly on Christmas. Even after all these years both women still treasured the now yellowed certificates.

The door was open and the soft light of several candles lit up a small part of the hallway making it unnecessary to keep on squeezing his torch. He had become quite tired of juggling the metal box and the dynamo. Arthur entered as quietly as possible so not to startle the old man during one of his many experiments. Uncontrolled fires underground were not pleasant. Gaius however was only making note of the several of dozens vials, flasks, glass containers on the infirmary's shelves so the young man felt it safe to announce his arrival.

Gaius turned around immediately, his eyes widening with relief – if Arthur read that correctly – and exclaimed happily, "Arthur, my dear boy! It's very good to see you! You're latest vanishing act had us all worried."

"I'm sorry I had you worried, Gaius. That was not my intent, but one would think you would grow accustomed to my so-called vanishing acts."

"Never." Gaius stated and suddenly appeared rather choked up. For a moment Arthur thought he was getting his second hug of the day but then the old man cleared his throat and asked shrewdly, "Is your father aware that you're back?"

"Supposedly, since he summoned me promptly." Arthur admitted.

"Yet you came here first." The old man rightly concluded.

"He's my next stop." Arthur said before Gaius gave him his signature disapproving look, "I just thought I would dump this metal box I've been carrying around everywhere at its final destination." He emphasized what he said by lifting the trunk a few inches higher.

Just then the light bulbs sprang back to life making both of them look up. Gaius smiled, "Ah, and as always the darkness does end."

"Lift it on my examination table." He said as he briefly turned away to blow out the candles, "That's the perfect height for my back."

"Are you admitting you're getting old, Gaius?" Arthur asked teasingly as he did what he was told. The physician scoffed and answered in the same manner, "I would have done it years earlier if you had the inclination of respecting your elders. Now go stand over there while I exam what you brought."

Gaius pointed towards the second examination table already completely focused on the contents of the trunk. Meanwhile Arthur slid off his backpack, placing it on the floor as he began to rotate his shoulders to lessen the tension.

"Wonderful," The physician beamed as he eyed the unbroken bottles with glee. He was especially happy with the medium high glass container filled with powdered silver. Also the two almost intact first aid kits were much appreciated. More bandages were always welcomed. But it was what Gaius found in another smaller metal box that made his eyes widen with surprise.

"Arthur, these are morphine syrettes." Gaius breathed awed. That had been on the list for so long that he had given up hope that the scavengers would ever find it. And now he was staring down at fifty syrettes at least.

Arthur, who had been leaning back against the table, crossed his arms smugly and asked, "So am I forgiven for giving you a scare?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Gaius said dismissively as he was so focused on the medicines. But then the old man realized what he had agreed to and fixed Arthur with a stern look, "Do try to leave a note the next time. You can write."

"I'll try to remember." Arthur said. He could see Gaius wasn't happy with that half-hearted promise, but the old man didn't comment on that.

Gaius did narrow his eyes in contemplation though before turning all professional, "Now, what have you done to yourself this time?"

Arthur uncrossed his arms again and sighed, "There's just no fooling you, is there Gaius?"

"I've been your physician since your birth, Arthur. Now spill." The old man ordered not unkindly.

"Nothing too bad," Arthur reassured him truthfully, "Just some aches which will pass the moment I get some rest."

"Well, I'll take your word for it." Gaius decided to let it go for now. The young man might be reckless at times but he wouldn't gamble with his health that badly. Still he couldn't help but advice, "Do come see me when your aches are worse than expected. Leaving something untreated-"

"Can be deadly." Arthur finished one of the old man's famous maxims, "I learned your lessons well."

"You were dreaming through half of them." Gaius remarked raising one eyebrow.

"I never slept in class." Arthur said almost affronted as he picked up his bag again.

"Dreaming, Arthur, is not the same as sleeping. Now go grace your father with your fine company," Gaius manoeuvred him out of the door but not without adding some parting advice, "And leave that scowl of yours in the hallway."

* * *

"Enter." His father called from the other side after Arthur knocked. The young man took a deep breath, determined to at least heed Gaius' advice for the first five minutes. He made no promises for his temper. Finally he pushed the handle down after procrastinating long enough in the corridor and opened the door.

Uther was standing next to his desk and looking intently at papers scattered across the table top. He was holding a map which he briefly lowered to glance up. Arthur lingered in the doorway, now no longer sure that Leon had given him his father's message correctly. The man looked busy and irritated at being disturbed.

"You wanted to see me?" He said but it sounded more like a question.

"Close the door, Arthur." His father instructed as he put the map down. With the help of his walking-stick he strode around the desk and sat down. Arthur knew he was expected to sit on the chair across of him and did so without dawdling. Now that he was in the lair of the beast, so to speak, the sensible thing to do was to get out quickly. Arthur placed his backpack next to his feet as he took a seat.

"I see that Leon managed to track you down swiftly." His father said by way of introduction, "Good."

Arthur didn't the roll his eyes at that comment even if he dearly wanted to. Gaius would be proud. But since it wasn't really a question the room remained awkwardly silent while Arthur waited for his father to get to the matter at hand. The man seemed intent to study him first though.

"How are you?" Uther asked.

Arthur answered with a clipped, "Fine."

"Good, that's good." The older man nodded to himself before sighing disappointedly and clasping his hands together in front of him, a sure sign things were becoming serious.

"Arthur, you went out without authorization and without notifying anyone. If someone else did it you would be the first to lecture them." Uther told him skilfully turning the tables. The young man supposed that was true, but only because he would go out and drag the person back to the Citadel himself.

"People look up to you," His father went on, "But if you continue to flaunt our rules you're endangering our whole way of living. I should ground you to the Citadel-"

"You can't!" Arthur finally spoke up.

"I said should," Uther retorted, "I'm perfectly aware that you and the rest of your merry band of scavengers are dearly needed. Why you continually go out there alone is another matter."

"You know it's dangerous." His father stated when Arthur didn't explain himself. The young man nearly rolled his eyes again at that obvious statement. And the grass is green and the sky blue, tell me something new, he thought.

"I know, it's just… It doesn't feel that dangerous to me." Arthur shrugged. In winter the unforgiving wind would cut out strange figures in the ice who then seemed to dance in the light of the setting sun. And deep down in the so many sinkholes across the land green things will be growing come Spring. They'll turn those pits into tiny pockets of oases where no man has ever gone before. Honestly, how could he explain the beauty of this new world when everyone else was either afraid, yearning for the old one or both?

His expression must have reflected these thoughts somehow because Uther remarked, "Sometimes I do wonder what goes on in that head of yours."

"Mostly I think you and mum had an unhealthy obsession with the Arthurian legends." The young man replied easily.

"Arthur…" His father warned starting to sound a tad exasperated.

"Exactly my point." Arthur smirked.

"Stop changing the subject." Uther ordered agitatedly now, "You're not a child anymore."

"Yet you don't trust me to make my own decisions."

"Not if they cause you to shriek your responsibilities!" Uther shouted as he slammed his hand flat on the desk. Arthur leaned back in his chair, surprised by the man's sudden outburst. Normally he was the one who snapped. He narrowed his eyes, this was suspicious…

"Father, what's going on? Did something happen?" He asked suddenly recalling his earlier feeling that something was off, "Is this why everyone's so glad to see me? Leon was behaving very weird and Gaius nearly hugged me."

"There was an … incident." Uther carefully choose that last word. Arthur paled and was on the verge of asking the dreaded question when the older man quickly added, "Nobody's hurt and now everyone's also accounted for."

"You thought I went missing." Arthur stated rather stunned. That would explain a few things.

"You were missing, Arthur. If nobody knows where you're off to, you are missing."

Arthur didn't know what to say to that. His father looked very tired suddenly. And wary, the young man noted. It was almost enough to make him try to form some sort of an apology for sneaking out.

There was a long pause before Uther sighed once more and instructed, "Go get some rest, some food. There's a meeting in four hours. I expect you to arrive promptly."

"Yes, father." Arthur replied automatically at the dismissal as he rose and heaved the straps of his backpack over one shoulder. He didn't look back as he left so he didn't see Uther's regretful expression.

* * *

Arthur could hear laughter well before entering the kitchen area, his final stop before his own room and bed. He still needed to empty his backpack though. And get some food. And refill his water bottle. Then there was also the chance of seeing more of the other inhabitants although now that the lights were back on, chances that they dispersed again were higher. Still, reasons enough to go to the kitchen.

There were three women present, all seated around the table closest to the open stove where two large pots were simmering. The kitchen had a very high ceiling and at various heights steel beams crisscrossed the room. The stove stood next to the oven where in summer flat breads were baked. There were two freestanding tables and workbenches lined the free walls. The many cabinets and shelves were filled with practical things like cooking utensils or food although those cabinets were only half stocked right now.

Margaret was there of course. The reigning Queen of the household had a talent for organising that rivalled all others and, just as important, a knack for cooking nutritious and delicious meals with only a handful of ingredients. She married Alan at the eve of the Second World War and had managed to establish a prosperous household during rationing which had still been in effect for some products when the earthquake hit.* Arthur had been in her good graces for years but the formidable woman had scared him when he was a boy. Truth to be told, most men had a healthy reverence for her now.

Next to her sat Freya, who made him uncomfortable for some reason. It had nothing to do with anything the girl did. She was perfectly nice if a bit quiet at times. There was just something about her that made him feel sad. She was a year younger than him but in the past Arthur had believed her to be much older. Geoffrey had called her an old soul when Arthur brought it up once. Morgana had just called him mean so he shut up about it.

The other woman was June. She was married to Nolan, Margaret's son, who was the only scavenger left above the age of thirty. He met June in the wild actually when, as the story goes, they literally bumped into each other and fell in love. As a boy Arthur had gagged at Rya's mellifluous retelling of that encounter. He certainly wasn't the only boy. In truth, June had been out with her own group to search the wilderness. That meeting was the fourth time the inhabitants of the Citadel had proof that they weren't alone in the world.

"Ladies," He greeted wondering about their good humour before deciding wisely he didn't want to know. After spotting the two boys who were building a tower on the floor with empty cans he added, "Young gentlemen."

A shouted, "Arthur!", was all the warning he got before he was almost barrelled over by the Citadel's youngest. He might become the Citadel's most enthusiastic resident in time but for now that honour still went to Robbie who'd been hoarding the title for years. Arthur suspected that wouldn't last long anymore. Before he left the thirteen-year-old had sulked for hours after Arthur had adamantly refused to let him become a scavenger.

The fact that he himself had been younger on his first expedition wasn't a good enough argument. When Arthur had started going on trips to the outside world those had rarely been longer than three days. Now being gone for a week or more from the settlement's safety was the norm as all the nearby supplies had been pilfered already. In truth the Citadel could use an extra member to their scavenger groups but Arthur couldn't in good conscience allow Robbie to tag along. That he was fond of the boy was another reason to keep him safe. He didn't want to lose anyone else.

In two years' time all Arthur's arguments would become mute anyway as fifteen was the latest any young man had joined. The girls, led by Evelyn or Evy for short, had protested to that unfairness but their fathers and mothers had remained unyielding. Eventually Evy joined the day she became sixteen, paving the way for the others.

A year later Arthur had joined and he still remembered how nervous he was. He'd been so scared that his favourite cousin would be angry with him, but she patiently explained all the things she had learned up till then never holding what had been his father's decision against him.

He still missed her ardent enthusiasm for things others overlooked every time he went out. Gwaine's older brother Michael was the only other person who shared her love for a spectacular view or the strange flying patterns of a flock of birds. It was something they passed on to him before vanishing.

"Hello Sean." Arthur greeted with a smile. It felt a little weak after his bleak thoughts but the small boy didn't notice as he had buried his face quite deeply in the fabric of Arthur's trousers. Sean mumbled something in reply while he remained clinging to his legs like a monkey.

"Sean sweetie, Arthur can't hear you like that." June, the two boys' mother, came to his rescue.

The small child tilted his head back, without releasing his grip on Arthur's legs as if fearing he would go away again, and repeated in one breath, "Hi Arthur, I'm glad you're back, I thought you were going to miss my birthday and I'm almost four."

"Four? I thought you were only turning three." Arthur play-acted.

"That was last year!" Sean told him loudly and let go of Arthur legs so he could hold up four fingers, "See? Four."

"I see." He replied seriously, "I will try to remember."

"You do that." Sean said gravely and then stepped back smiling happily now that the confusion was cleared up.

Nathan stepped forward and greeted Arthur with the elaborate handshake they had perfected around Christmas. He was a much more solemn child who was quite satisfied with letting his little brother get the attention first. Unlike Sean Nathan had never been an aimless chatterbox. His eyes twinkled however when they ended their handshake and the boy concluded thoughtfully, "You didn't forget. There's still hope for you."

Arthur shook his head disbelievingly at that. He was being teased by a seven-year-old. June greeted him next with a bone-crushing hug that made him wince. Only Freya who was literally next in line, saw his painful expression. Thankfully she kept mum. She was however much more gentle in her greeting.

Margaret didn't hug him. Instead she placed a steaming plate with baked beans and rice on the table and ordered him to eat while handing him a spoon. He knew now that it was a very warm welcome indeed. The three women returned to their previous seats while Arthur sat down as well having a whole table for himself. After taking a bite and savouring the taste, he placed his backpack in front of him and he looked around the kitchen.

"Who wants to help me unload?" He asked and smiled as the two boys hurried to him after they had wandered back to their tower.

They made a game of it. Arthur would take something out of his backpack, laid in on the table while he ate and then Sean or Nathan in turn would present it to the women. Soon Arthur's backpack became as wondrous as Mary Poppins' carpetbag when he conjured things like matches, a tin of dried tea leaves, candles, several balls of yarn and a large variety of canned food like sardines, peaches, Spam, baked beans, lentils and even tuna.*

Nathan pretended to be a merchant, praising the goods like a natural while his younger brother would bounce, held up whatever he'd been carrying and said it looked nice. He did that a total of two times before declaring that he wanted to sit on Arthur's lap. Where he sat still for the grand total of five minutes while prattling on before gravitating towards the tower again. Arthur wondered idly when it would fall over.

"I don't know what these are." Nathan admitted quietly when Arthur took out the dozen carrot-like vegetables last. They weren't orange though but white and a lot thicker at the top.

"Then be mysterious. That's always a good selling point." Arthur whispered back. Sean was suddenly there again and helped his brother carry the vegetables to the other table.

"My boy, I could kiss you now." Margaret exclaimed in surprise, "Parsnips! Where on earth did you find parsnips!" She held up the root with so much pleasure that it shocked the other adults and immediately got up getting knives and chopping boards. Clearly she planned to serve it for tonight's dinner.

Meanwhile Arthur had finished eating and asked, "Is there any hot water left?" Usually they kept a pot of water near the fire so it would boil quickly if needed.

"There is." Freya supplied and already guessing the reason for his question asked, "Would you like a bucket to carry it back?"

"If that's okay with you, Margaret?" Arthur asked as he stood up not willing to take so much water if it was needed here. He was already taking some of their supply to refill his water bottle after all.

"I think you can ask for anything now after bringing us fresh vegetables." Freya answered instead. The older woman harrumphed but didn't correct her. The girl handed him a bucket and Arthur carefully poured the hot water in.

"If you drop your filthy clothes off after dinner, I'll wash them for you." June offered as she crouched down next to the boys' tower. Nathan was busy trying to fix Sean's helpful additions to the construction. This division of labour worked apparently since the building was still standing.

"You don't need to do that, June." The young man quickly said not wanting to burden the woman.

"I know, but I do need to wash my children's clothes today. An extra set will hardly make the difference." June waved his objections off as she put Sean onto her lap. The boy had been yawning ever since he had helped Arthur unload.

"When put like that, I'll gladly take you up on your offer." Arthur said relieved as it was one less thing he needed to do. He carried the bucket and his water bottle back to the table, putting the latter one in his bag. Then he heaved the backpack over his shoulders, hopefully for the last time today, and seized the bucket once more.

Just then Sean started to cry, "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with Nathan. Only babies take naps!"

"Are you saying I'm a baby?" Arthur asked the boy who stopped his struggle in his mother's arms. Clearly the question had taken him by surprise. "Because I'm going to take a nap now as well."

"Really?" The little boy asked.

"Really." He reaffirmed and admitted ruefully, "Otherwise I'll be grumpy at dinner."

Sean made a frowny face, "Nobody likes grumpy Arthur."

June and Freya snorted while Margaret shooed him out of her kitchen saying, "You heard the child. Now off you go, nobody likes grumpy Arthur."

* * *

As expected it was cold in his small room, Arthur sighed as he flicked on the lone lightbulb and closed the door behind him. The benefit of having such a tiny one however was that it warmed up quickly when he was there. If he stretched his arms above his head for instance, he could place his hands flat on the ceiling. Luckily there was some place to manoeuvre but his bed did take up almost half the space.

There was a wardrobe next to the door for all his stuff that didn't fit on the shelves hanging above the bed. There was also a small table with a rather big bowl on top in comparison and a jug. A chair was his last piece of furniture and Arthur placed his bag next to the seat. He then poured as much water as he could in the jug before setting the bucket down as well. After untying his shoelaces he placed the worn boots near the door and went to his wardrobe next.

Selecting a red woollen jumper, a pair of dark brown trousers, a white vest, socks and underwear which he all threw on the bed, was easy. He paused at his shirts though. He had three, well four including the one he was wearing. In the end he decided to go for the softest shirt he owned which was a faded red one, instead of the stark white one he got this Christmas. He grabbed two towels as well and spread one of them out on the floor in front of the small table.

That done he stripped down completely, dropping the dirty clothes down on a pile next to his bag and looked himself over critically. He didn't have a mirror in his room but he was fairly certain that his back looked as badly as what he could see on his front. His torso and thighs were littered with bruises. Luckily, and just as he suspected, there were no cuts.

After wetting his hair with the water from the jug while leaning over the bowl to avoid spillage, Arthur used some liquid shampoo to massage his scalp until the foam almost dripped down his back. He rinsed off again and repeated the process two more times until he deemed his hair clean enough. With a wet cloth and soap he hurriedly washed the rest of his body before the water cooled down completely.

When all the clean water was used Arthur poured it from the bowl back into the bucket to carry it out later and towelled himself dry. Shaving his light stubble would have to wait. He had just put on his underwear and had stepped into the legs of his trousers when a voice startled him.

"They look painful."

"Morgana!" Arthur yelled indignantly while hurriedly pulling up his trousers. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't be so modest, brother of mine," She said as she closed the door behind her and sat herself down on his bed, "You've got nothing I haven't seen before."

"Not really the conversation I want to be having with my sister." Arthur pointed out already knowing that asking her to leave would be a futile endeavour, "Maybe I should punch Leon." He added with a scowl and held out his hand to her.

"Don't, he's a perfect gentleman." Morgana assured him and gave him his vest where she'd been so helpfully sitting on.

"You didn't answer my question, what are you doing in here?" He asked again as he pulled the garment over his head.

"You didn't answer mine."

"What question?"

"Men…" Morgana muttered, "Do I really have to spell out everything?"

"If you want Leon to propose you might need to change tactics." Arthur suggested subtly while he crouched down to save his belt from the pile of dirty clothes.

"Pot, meet kettle, dear brother." Morgana quipped easily, "At least Leon and I are seeing each other. When was the last time you really spoke to Gwen?" She asked.

"I've been busy." Arthur countered as he pulled the belt back through the loops.

"Busy running away…" His sister muttered loud enough for him to hear. Now _that_ would always remain a sore point between them, Arthur reflected regretfully.

Morgana let the silence drag out for a bit before asking, "What are you actually looking for out there?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out." Arthur had no other answer for her. In an effort to get back on track he pointed to his chest.

"Now about these, I had a strange encounter…" Arthur said weighing his words. When he saw Morgana purse her lips he hurriedly added, "I know I'm being annoyingly vague but if you're going to the meeting you'll learn more. Now, shirt please."

"Of course, I'm going to be there." Morgana declared as she handed him the piece of clothing, "Leon's freaked out about something. And nobody's telling a thing, not even Gwaine and you know how hard it is to get him to shut up about something. They are being even more tight-lipped than you are right now." She complained with a huff.

"Morgana, why are you here?" Arthur asked giving his sister his full attention for the first time since she stepped into his room. He hadn't buttoned his shirt yet, but Morgana was usually more direct in her dealings. It worried him a bit. His sister looked up and focused on the bruise right below his collarbone. To Arthur's shock he could see tears in her eyes.

"I- I had a nightmare four nights ago. Now I know it was another vision." She stammered and before Arthur knew it he had his arms around her after Morgana had launched herself at him and buried her head against his shoulder. She in turn was mindful of the bruises otherwise Arthur suspected she might have squeezed him to death as she sobbed into their hug. He wasn't really an expert on crying women, quite the contrary in fact, but Morgana was his sister and by default this wasn't the first time he found himself in this situation.

"Hey, I'm fine, Morgana." He whispered softly hoping it would be enough as he rubbed her back comfortingly, "Just bruised, see?"

She calmed down after a few minutes but didn't release her hold on him yet. Arthur suspected she needed to believe that he really was all right. He couldn't imagine how she had felt during the past days. Now that he studied her from up close he noticed how pale and tired she looked.

"I just saw the beginning, not the end so I didn't know." Morgana seemed to read his thoughts, "I didn't know if you survived the attack. It looked so horrible."

"Did you speak with Dad about it?" He asked. Now that made her look up.

"Oh, so it's Dad again?" Morgana asked sceptically as she took a step back accepting Arthur's offered handkerchief without a word. To his relief she seemed completely calmed down again as she sagged on his bed once more. Arthur plunked down next to her.

"Always with you." He admitted a bit wistfully, "Did you?"

"I didn't want to worry him any more than he already was this time. He does worry, you know that right?" She asked, "Every single time you go out."

"I always return." Arthur reassured her, but Morgana looked at him mournfully as if she already knew something he didn't.

"Until the one time you don't."

Just like during his talk with his father, Arthur didn't know what to say to that.

"Well, as lovely as catching up with you has been," Morgana said decisively with a trace of irony and stood back up, "I'm going to try to identify those plants you brought. Just so you know, if they turn out to be poisonous again I'm going to hit you with a botany book."

"Gaius was happy." Arthur defended himself raising his hands.

"Gaius doesn't know all your embarrassing secrets." Morgana smiled sweetly before sighing. She brushed his hair back just like their mother used to do and said, "Get some rest, little brother, I'll come and wake you when it's time."

* * *

 ***Feeling that some names just didn't fit in the twentieth century I changed a few. Alan and Lewis are Alator and Iseldir or however the older druid man's name's spelled.**

 ***Rationing ended in July 1954 for the UK.**

 ***Apparently with some luck you can still eat canned food 100 years after it was packed, not always though, but still…**

 **So any thoughts? You're slowly getting to know some of the citizens. :)  
**

 **I'm a bit stuck on the next chapter with the meeting. I could give you detailed backgrounds on every person there (like age, related to others how, etc.) or you'll just have to bear with me when I mention a new name until their background is revealed on a later date. There will be 28 persons in total at that meeting. So I'm slightly leaning for option 2 which is what I've been doing till now as it might be a dry read otherwise...  
**


	5. Chapter 4: Worrying Developments

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, this is one tough chapter: a lot of information, things revealed and things alluded to... :) I would have cut it in half if that made any sense. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Worrying Developments**

8 January 1978

It seemed that only mere seconds had passed between laying his head down on the thin pillow and Morgana gently shaking his shoulder. Yet he had slept deeply and without dreaming for once. Which he considered a good thing as his dreams were utterly confusing. For instance he did a lot of sword fighting in them which might make sense as he often trained with the weapon. Still as far as he knew he had never worn chain mail. He wasn't complaining though as luckily they weren't visions. Of all the inhabitants of the Citadel only Morgana dreamed of the future.

"Arthur, it's time to wake up." She obviously repeated. Her pale face reflected the light of the two oil lamps she was carrying.

"I'm awake." Arthur blinked and sat up to proof it, "How much time do I have?" He rubbed his face and yawned. He'd been laying on top of his blankets but somehow the woollen quilt, that had been neatly folded together at the end of his bed, had crawled over him during his nap. That or someone had tucked him under.

"Fifteen minutes more or less." His sister answered and placed one of the lamps on the table, "That's yours. Electricity's been out for an hour now. Everyone's heading to the Council Room except for Rose who volunteered to stay with the children."

Arthur didn't comment on the lack of power. The last part of what Morgana said was much more uncommon.

"So it's a closed on?" He asked while a shiver ran down his spine. When someone needed to share something with everyone else it was usually just said during dinner when everyone was there. Official meetings did happen of course at least every two weeks to talk about logistical stuff and so on. But then everyone was present including the children.

In the past it only happened a few times that a meeting was declared closed, meaning that only those older than fourteen were allowed. Arthur remembered those times pretty well. Frankly he dreaded those emergency meetings to the point where he had nightmares about them. Because every time it happened, whether he had been included or not, things had changed. And bar a few someone had always died.

"Why are you so surprised, clearly something has happened." Morgana reminded him and then suggested, "Oh, and you might want to talk to Robbie afterwards. He's pretty angry about being excluded. Have you been teaching him to curse?"

She looked very stern right now, with her hands on her hips and staring down at him as if he'd been running around insulting people.

"He's just hitting puberty." Arthur said dismissively while refraining from answering truthfully. He grabbed his jumper from the end of the bed and wrestled it on.

"Just what we need," Morgana told him mockingly, "Another angsty teenager."

"I wasn't that bad." Arthur defended the obvious stab at his own teenage years.

"While we could debate for hours about your definition of 'not that bad' and the fact that you actually ran away for months, clock's ticking and you might want to wash the drool of your face before heading out." She informed him snidely before spinning around sharply and left pulling the door close behind her. The force of it made his shelves tremor.

Yes, Arthur thought sarcastically as he plunked back down on his bed, his sister was a real gem. Leon was one fortunate bloke.

He stayed like that for two more minutes allowing himself the chance to wake up properly. He had placed his feet flat on the floor though. The cold would keep him awake. Once he was up he followed his sister's lovely suggestion and washed his face with the water from his water bottle.

Suddenly he noticed that his pile of discarded clothes was missing. They were gone and more importantly his boots, which had been caked with mud, were clean. Pleasantly surprised Arthur put them on and went for his bag next. He unpacked an old toy car and placed it on the highest shelf. The paint was nearly gone but he could still see that it had been red once. He hope that Sean liked his birthday present.

Out one of the side-pockets he took a dried but bloody cloth wrapped around two set of teeth. They were as long as his index finger and as thick at the base, but the tips were narrow points. Arthur packed the teeth again and carefully put them in his trousers' pocket. They were evidence of the otherwise rather farfetched story he was going to tell. Maybe it was for the best that it was a closed meeting, he thought.

* * *

For an outsider walking through the maze of dark corridors of Project Pendragon was an impossible task. Arthur however was so familiar with the nooks, corners and overhanging pipes that he didn't need to think about ducking his head in time.

He was on his way to the biggest hall of the centre, barring the Main Court, which normally was used as their training room. All the medieval weaponry was lined along the walls and when they pushed all ten tables, benches and chairs to the side the space was just big enough to practice hitting a target.

Suddenly a voice called out in the darkness making him halt, "So you've finally decided to grace us with your presence."

"Gwaine." Arthur greeted back despite the other man's lack of courtesy and asked, "Do you have a reason for lurking in the dark?"

He had partly passed the narrow corridor where Gwaine had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed and without a light, when the man had spoken up.

"Other than waylaying you?" Gwaine shrugged and stepped into the main hallway.

"Couldn't you continue to ignore me? It made both of us happy." Arthur suggested tiring quickly with this non-conversation. He was already halfway turned when Gwaine suddenly grabbed him by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall. It happened so fast that Arthur had no chance to react. A painful hiss escaped his lips.

"What the hell!" Arthur protested having managed to safe his lamp from being knocked against the wall but not his bruised back.

"Listen carefully, Arthur." Gwaine hissed as he leaned in close, "You have no idea what's out there. No idea at all. So do us all a favour and stop wandering off. Your luck can only last so long before you disappear like-"

"Gwaine!"

The man released his shirt swiftly smoothing the wrinkled fabric, but not quick enough. Elyan and Gwen were staring shocked at the scene in front of them. Arthur suspected their expressions matched his.

"What's the matter with you?" Elyan continued as he pushed Gwaine away from Arthur actually smacking the other man on the back of the head, "Of all the idiotic things…" They left arguing down the hallway and disappeared around the corner.

"What was that?" Gwen asked worriedly as she rushed to his side, "Are you all right?"

"No idea." Arthur was still pressed to the wall. That seemed the safest position for the next ten seconds at least. Gwaine's sudden behaviour had honestly left him reeling.

"I'm fine though." He went on after realizing his earlier comment could've answered both her questions.

"You shouldn't let him push you around like that."

"I don't." He stated but he could see Gwen was not convinced. She looked up at him with those big beautiful understanding eyes as if she knew what he was thinking. That Gwaine had every right to be pissed at him. That he too would go ballistic if he'd been in Gwaine's position and Morgana had been in Michael's.

"What's up with him by the way?" Arthur asked deflecting the attention from him, "It's been a long time since he was this antagonistic."

"I know he's been on edge ever since their group returned yesterday morning." Gwen raised, "I guess we'll discover the reason soon enough."

"Well, since Elyan left and took your light…" Arthur bowed lightly and asked, "My Lady, would you honour me by accepting this poor man as your escort?" Gwen's eyes lit up as she recognized this spiel from their childhood games.

"Of course, my good Sir." Gwen pretended to lift a skirt and curtsied, "This lady would be delighted." She accepted while hooking her arm through his. As she briefly leaned her head against his shoulder, Gwen whispered, "We should do this more often."

"I usually ended up pulling your pig-tails." Arthur reminisced as they strolled through the dark hallways.

"And I kicked your shins." Gwen reminded him in return.

"You had _the_ sharpest toes for a girl." He exclaimed still sounding impressed which caused Gwen to laugh as they wandered on. The lamp gently swung back and forth in correspondence with their steps, creating dancing shadows against the walls. For a brief time Arthur felt that all was right with the world.

* * *

Just before they entered the chamber the lights flickered back on causing everyone to halt their conversation to look up. In that brief pause Arthur and Gwen moved inside while he cursed his luck because of course their entry wasn't inconspicuous that way. He got a few nods and smiles from the other inhabitants. The dark look Leon was giving Gwaine right now was especially telling. Arthur was sure that Elyan had blabbed to his brother.

With a whispered "Thank you for the escort." Gwen stepped away to greet Morgana and Mary before sitting down next to her mother, Rya. Of the twenty-nine above the age of fourteen, only Tom and Olaf were still absent, but Arthur knew they would be on their way now that the lights were back on.

In the middle of the ten smaller tables shoved together was the Map. This was actually a combination of several ordnance maps combined with Geoffrey's and later also June's talent for drawing since the landscape had changed so much. If England was a piece of paper then the earthquake had folded, ripped, punctured, added to and shrunken it all at the same time.

In the middle of it was the Citadel and the surrounding cliffs. Across the Map were various lines drawn around the centre like the altitude lines around a mountain. Yet they didn't depict altitude nor the distance from one point to the other. Distances weren't correct anymore and while they could try and measure the land again, it wouldn't mean anything.

Instead the lines equalled days of travelling. How closer together how more difficult the terrain was there. Those, landmarks and X's to mark treasure as Arthur had once thought when he was a boy, were the only things needed on a scavenger hunt.

It was tradition to sit with your families during the meetings. Only the Pendragons were the exception since Uther presided them and as a rule Lewis and Gaius sat right next to him. So Morgana always sat between the Brewer and Smith family, next to Mary and Gwen. It made sense since those three were the only girls at the moment who went on scavenger hunts as well. Arthur found them pretty impressive.

So in a clockwise direction there was the Brewer family with Alice and Gaius. Their extended family was the biggest one of the settlement as their three children had married over the years. They were the proud grandparents of six. Mary was the oldest one at twenty-one and considering how she and Percy sometimes gazed at each other, Arthur was pretty confident that within two years at most the older couple would become great-grandparents.

Then sat the Smith family with Tom and Rya. They were the only family who hadn't lost a member during the years. Rya firmly believed that Leon's legendary luck had rubbed off on the rest of the family after they had taken the young boy in as one of their own. Arthur wasn't superstitious, but seeing his friend's luck for himself in the outside world he agreed with Rya.

After the Smiths came the O'Connell family with Alan and Margaret. Just like sitting with your family had become tradition, so had Alan's spot at the table become undebatable. He usually sat right across from Uther. While Arthur and his father were descended from a proud line of entrepreneurs, Alan came from an equally proud lineage of union leaders. Their initial antagonistic relationship had soon been replaced by grudging respect though neither Alan nor his father would ever admit that.

Then sat the Mullins family though Geoffrey was the only one who carried that name. When the earthquake struck his granddaughter Hazel had been here on a visit and ended up marrying the young man she'd ran away with. He died however before seeing the birth of his daughter, Vivian. Hazel remarried eventually and had another child, Owain, with Olaf Nass. She herself sadly died during the 1970 sickness.

Next to Owain sat Gwaine, the only representative of the Greene family as his mother was looking after the children. Arthur wondered about that arrangement. Rose was an outspoken woman much like her son, but unlike Gwaine, her rashness had tempered since losing her husband in 1970. Arthur knew her as a very intuitive woman.

At last came the Burke family. Whereas the Smiths never lost anyone, Lewis lost his first wife during the earthquake. He then remarried and lost his second wife as well. Also he lost his adult sons, one during the storms and another during an accident on a scavenger hunt, the same one in 1963 which forced Uther to use a walking stick. His daughter, Freya and grandson, Percy are the light of his life though and Arthur is often annoyed by Lewis' steadfast faith.

There used to be two more families present around the table. The Morrow family all departed after Gorlois' death. While Morgana could technically be considered a Morrow she thought of herself as a Pendragon now. Truth to be told Arthur never really talked to Morgana about Gorlois or Vivian. And he knew his sister had looked up to Morgause and Morris, her older siblings. But she never mentioned them either.

The other family were the Woods. Of all the families here Arthur had felt closest to them, they were after all his mother's family. Arthur had adored spending time with his grandparents. They had been old at the time of the earthquake, older than Geoffrey, and had travelled to every corner of the earth during their life. Arthur often recalled their stories after they had passed away until he had memorized them all.

He had two uncles, Tristan and Uncle Archie. Tristan had married before the disaster to his Aunt Edith and they had one daughter, Evy. Tristan was the first one to die shielding Ygraine from an explosion of glass during the earthquake. After his Aunt died in 1970 just hours before his own mother, and Uncle Archie and Evy went missing in '74 the Wood family was no more.

* * *

Arthur slid into the empty spot next to Leon and June and asked the woman quietly, "Any idea where my clothes ran off to?"

"They miraculously found their way to me this afternoon so now they're already hanging to dry." She answered with a smile.

"Thank you." He said sincerely and glanced around the table. Everyone was either busy talking to the person next to them or subtly pretending to listen to their conversation. Nobody stood out however so out of desperation he turned back to her and asked, "Any idea who I need to thank for cleaning my boots?"

June held up her hands and briefly pressed her lips together before answering, "I'm sworn to silence."

Leon who had been listening leaned closer and whispered, "It's a conspiracy, Arthur. Run."

"I might…" Arthur mumbled jokingly before his father loudly cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention. The young man immediately snapped his mouth shut and turned his head back to the other side of the table. Apparently he had missed Tom and Olaf's entrance.

"Tom, Olaf, do you have an update on the electricity?" Uther asked. Meanwhile Lewis was already taking notes.

"Yes, well to summarize, everything that could go wrong is going wrong lately. Yesterday one of the fuses burned out, this morning a couple of light bulbs were broken and now Olaf an I discovered there's water damage by the generator." He summed up, "We fixed it, but we're running out of spare parts. A couple of more mishaps like these ones close to each other and we're out of electricity."

"It hasn't rained in days." Alan remarked.

"True, but it's probably from a source of ground water." Olaf suggested though Arthur knew the man was sceptical towards his own explanation. He agreed. If they had a large or small reservoir of water close by, they would have found it before now.

"Do we have enough fuel, candles and batteries if that scenario comes to pass?" Uther inquired.

"A week at most with regular use." Duncan immediately answered, "Used sparingly and only for necessities? Perhaps a month."

"We have some light sources that don't need any of those like the dynamo-torches or Tom's gravity lamps." Helen reminded everyone.

"There's an old power station a six day hike from here." Arthur stood up and pointed to it on the Map, "We never stripped it of all its equipment because it wasn't needed then. If Tom and Olaf could explain or even draw what we need we could go and get it before the lack of power becomes a problem." He proposed as he sat back down.

Gwaine suddenly made an odd noise, it sounded suspiciously like disagreement and before Arthur could asked what was so disagreeable about his suggestion he noticed that Leon was drumming his fingers nervously on the table. Arthur glanced at his friend quizzically.

"That might be a problem." Leon raised slowly.

"Did something happen to the place?" Tom asked worried. Clearly he had been counting on that solution. It was the only one that would solve their problem on a long-term basis after all which was why Arthur had proposed it.

"We never went that far." Mary admitted. There was something in her voice though that Arthur couldn't place. He was still not seeing what was wrong with his proposal however and said as much.

"Then I don't get the problem."

"Let's get to the crux of the matter and the reason for this impromptu meeting." Uther interrupted cutting Gwaine off before the man could say a thing, "Leon, if you could?"

"This is actually Gwaine's story to tell." The young man confessed. Instantly Arthur realised this was the reason why Rose was absent. Gwaine would have told half-truths to spare his mother and Rose had known this.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. It never took Gwaine this much coaxing to tell a story yet the man appeared very reluctant and struggled to gather his thoughts.

"So um-" Gwaine started hesitantly, "we just reached our haunt halfway between here and Bayard's camp…" He narrated how they proceeded on the scavenger hunt. Arthur drowned out most of the technicalities Gwaine was saying as he was familiar with how that group worked.

Instead Arthur studied Gwaine's expression. Earlier he hadn't really bothered for obvious reasons. But now, truth to be told, the man looked like he'd seen a ghost. To his left Leon wasn't looking that well either and further down the table James and Mary had gripped each other's hands in support.

"… I was just about to screw the lights out of the lorry when I saw it."

The young man paused again and Arthur felt his own uneasiness grow. Gwaine never ever minced his words like this.

"What did you see?" Gaius insisted gently.

"You all know that I draw Mr. Chad everywhere?" Gwaine asked and for a very brief moment his eyes twinkled mischievously. Yes, everybody knew that. Ever since he was a small child and listened to the stories about the Second World War, Gwaine had this strange fascination with drawing Mr. Chad, the bald-headed stencilled man with a prominent nose peeking over a wall.

And ever since he went out on scavenger hunts he drew it with charcoal or chalk on any flat surface near the place where he didn't find something and wrote "Wot, no cans?" or "Wot, no sugar?" underneath the drawing. Or he wrote "Kilroy was here" in the footsteps of unknown US soldiers. Soon though he had replaced Kilroy with his own name.

Now the lands around the Citadel, and the building itself, were hosts to at least hundred smaller and bigger drawings of the bald-headed man. Some even became landmarks. So again, yes everyone knew this. What Arthur wanted to know was why everyone seemed to be freaking out about a chalked drawing?

"I had drawn Mr. Chad on the rocky cliff years before and well…" Gwaine steeled himself before going on, "I looked up and there was a gigantic bloody X painted across him."

That had not been on Arthur's list of likely things to happen. In fact the full implication of this discovery had utterly silenced everyone even those who had known about it. It explained so much though: the eerie feeling he had felt since entering the Citadel, his father's strange mood and Leon's and Gaius' worry and relief. It even gave new meaning to Gwaine's threat earlier. Arthur looked contemplatively at his old friend wondering if in some bizarre and twisted way that hadn't been a threat but a sincere warning.

"Maybe someone was trying to communicate." Alex raised reasonably. He had always been the first one to calm down in a crisis. His pragmatic way of handling things was something he had undoubtedly inherited from either Alice or Gaius.

"Of course someone tried to communicate. I'm just not thrilled to go meet whoever paints bloody crosses over Mr. Chad." Gwaine shot back.

"It could've been paint." Arthur felt it necessary to back up the man he still called Uncle Alex in his head no matter how unlikely his suggestion might seem.

"It didn't look like paint!" Gwaine nearly yelled.

"I agree. It certainly wasn't red paint." Mary interjected before this escalated even more.

"I know our reaction might be considered over the top," James went on as he backed up his sister, "but this feels like a confirmation of something we've always known. Or at the very least always feared."

"What are you talking about, James?" Alex, the young man's father asked when his son didn't immediately continue.

Instead of answering directly though James gazed around the table and challenged, "If you never had the feeling out in the wild that you were being watched, please raise your hand."

It was both telling and chilling that nobody moved. Arthur looked down at his hands as they were placed flat on the table. There had been moments when the hairs on the back of his neck had suddenly rose without reason. When he would have sworn he saw something in the corner of his eye. When he turned to face it that something was nothing more than the wind playing with the rubble or even the fast shadows of birds flying over. Yet that feeling never fully passed.

"It could still be one of Bayard's or Annis' men?" Uther raised disturbing the growing silence.

"Annis' people live too far." Leon pointed out and grimaced briefly before going on, "And I don't want to cause any more worry, but when was the last time that we came across any of Bayard's men?"

"It's not exactly rare that we don't hear from them for months." Gwen told them. She tried to sound aloof and that was telling. Arthur could hear the worry in her voice and felt a stab of jealousy at her words.

Bayard's settlement was a seven day hike from the Citadel. It was built inside an old railway tunnel and used the various compartments of several trains as houses. It had been Tom and Gorlois who encountered the group in the winter of 1956 and ever since then both settlements have a tentative truce even friendship going on between them. Sometimes months and months passed though without seeing the other group. It was indeed not that rare.

"True, but we share some haunts as you know and par agreement everything used should be replaced after leaving. I know it's been more than a year since anyone else than us used the haunt under the Two Giants." Leon concluded.

The Two Giants were two massive rock formations. In truth they weren't that tall but the fact that they were standalone rocks created the feeling that they were looming over you. The wind had cut rough curves in them making them resemble actual giants more and more with every passing year. At the base of one of the giants was the entrance to a cave big enough to house five or six adults for a short time. Usually they left some food and firewood behind for emergency use.

"I went to Annis' settlement in November." Arthur reminded the assembly, "They were all well and never said anything about being watched."

"You never raised your hand either, Arthur. Nor did you voice those thoughts before now." James remarked cleverly.

"A fourth group we never heard about?" Rya raised coming to the inevitable conclusion like everyone else.

"Who makes itself know by painting bloody crosses? I agree with Gwaine, I don't want to meet them." Margaret finally spoke out for the first time since the start of the meeting, an occurrence so unusual that it was only surpassed by what she said. Margaret rarely agreed with anything Gwaine said.

It certainly gave Gwaine the little nudge he needed to continue, "After freaking out and getting back to base camp and freaking out some more because only Mary and Leon were there cause James was late..." He fixed the younger man with a glare that was so unconvincing Arthur wondered why the man had even tried.

At least Gwaine sounded a bit more like his old self as he went on after James' resigned and mumbled apology. No doubt the youngest of that scavenger group had been saying sorry ever since.

"So after showing the others the drawing and spending a really shitty night in the haunt we made a slight detour before travelling back. Two of the eight Mr. Chad's we passed were crossed out as well, the closest a mere four day hike from here."

And just when Arthur thought it couldn't get any worse, it did. He tried to put off imagining what this could mean for the future but that was very hard. Neither Annis' nor Bayard's group had ever been violent. Sure sometimes there were the expected tensions a lack of sleep could cause but that was it. Who would paint X's across harmless drawings? And he didn't doubt Mary's confirmation that it was in fact real blood.

He cleared his throat to garner attention as he pulled the cloth covered package out of his pocket. He felt Leon tense beside him and saw Morgana purse her lips together in the corner of his eye.

"We might have another problem as well." Arthur ventured carefully and unpacked the bloody cloth. "I know you won't believe me, hence the proof, but some gigantic slimy lizard beast tried to eat me a couple of days ago."

"Those are genuine teeth?" Alan asked as he and almost everyone else leaned forwards in their seats to get a better look. Arthur glanced up at his father who remained emotionless as expected.

"It was a beast I didn't recognise." The young man answered remaining ignorant of the complete shock Uther was still feeling. Arthur pulled a piece of paper and a pencil towards him, "I'll draw it so you know how it looks."

He roughly sketched the creature before passing it to Leon who passed it on to Elyan after inspecting it. This went smoothly until it reached his sister. Morgana viewed the drawing critically as if she was looking at a piece of art. She clicked her tongue.

"I'm impressed" She admitted and from her tone Arthur knew it wasn't a compliment, "Now everyone knows to keep a look out for the bizarre lovechild of a skinny camel and a crocodile with overlarge teeth."

A couple of people snorted at her comment including Leon, the traitor. Arthur glared half-heartedly at his sister as he gratefully realized that some of the tension in the room was draining away and quipped easily, "Who taught her biology?"

Morgana sighed in defeat and gestured Leon to pass her the pencil, "Let me."

She passed it on after making some alterations, though Arthur had been quite proud of his stick figure. When it reached Gaius the old man's eyebrows rose remarkably as he blurted out, "That looks like a Cockatrice."

"A what?", was Uther's unintelligent sounding question as he viewed the drawing himself. It was something out of a nightmare really. It looked like a dinosaur he once saw in a museum when he was a lot younger.

"Just a sudden insight." Gaius explained, "It's a legendary creature of magic."

"Magic?" Uther echoed passing the drawing to Lewis, "Are you suggesting that magical animals are roaming around England now?"

"It's just as likely as young men and women displaying gifts none of us can explain. There's a reason why Morgana could draw the beast so accurately or why my grandson tends to burn his tests when the answers allude him. Or why Freya can sense instantly if water is drinkable or not by just touching it." Gaius added, "I could go on."

"That's not necessary. Thank you, Gaius, magic exists. The world's gone crazy." Uther summarized bluntly, "We knew that, it just seems so…"

"Unnatural?" Morgana dared him. Uther had known about her gift for years ever since she came crying that wolves were going to attack. They did the next day. Even so his daughter sometimes acted like he would start to condemn her for her inexplicable ability.

"No, I was going for surreal."

"What happened exactly?" Tom steered the conversation back to Arthur.

"It attacked, I thrust my sword in its stomach." The young man narrated matter-of-factly. After doing that he had rolled out of the way just in time or the creature would have still killed him with its crushing weight. Arthur hadn't even thought about the unlikeliness of the attack until the beast was already dying at his feet.

Truth to be told it had felt rather exhilarating. And unbelievable once his brain had caught on to what he had done. That's why he didn't elaborate on the fact that he never froze not even when the creature barrelled him over with a speed that made both of them tumble down a rocky hill. Or that he managed to hold on to his sword when the beast launched at him again. He had felt agile, fast and focused.

It was only when he tried to pull his sword out, futilely since it was lodged deeply in the creature's spine, that he fully grasped how close to being mauled to death he had come. Now that realization had caused a minor panic attack.

"How big was it?" Percy asked suddenly as he'd been examining the sketch.

"It wouldn't fit through a door so about nine feet high and with its tail perhaps seventeen feet in length?" The young man estimated cautiously. Shocked gasps echoed through the chamber and Arthur tried very hard not to look at Gwen. Or Margaret. Or Alice. Or anyone else actually so he just stared at the Map awkwardly.

"You're lucky to be alive." Alex voiced out loud what everyone had been thinking.

"It looked starved so I'm guessing it was weakened already." Arthur tried to shrug some of that concern off which sort of backfired when Gaius remarked, "Which begs the question how such a large animal can feed itself."

Another deafening silence descended on the room.

In hindsight it was definitely for the best that the meeting was a closed one. In times like these Arthur wished he was years younger, wished he wouldn't have to carry the responsibilities of an adult just because he was one now. That he could just hide away in the library or on top of the watchtower making those wishes, like the naive child he was, on shooting stars. Neither of those wishes had come to pass after 1970.

But as he gazed around the table, at the anxious expressions of those he considered his friends, his family even, Arthur knew that he would do anything to make sure everything would be all right. No matter what was decided today, in that moment he vowed to get to the bottom of things. If Morgana and Alex, two of the bravest persons he knew looked this frightened, then he didn't want to imagine the reaction of the children.

Despite the size of the creature he wasn't too concerned about that. The fact that he had some time to process its improbable existence was no doubt part of the reason. Animals though were easy to decipher. Carnivores – like wolves and apparently now also gigantic lizard beasts – needed food and thus killed for it. He understood that. What the motivations were behind drawing large X's in blood was less comprehensible. That it's meaning was anything but benign was clear though. Even an idiot could see that.

* * *

 **So any thoughts? Suggestions?**


	6. Chapter 5: For The Love Of Home

**A/N: When I read Modern AU's I love it when writers use lines of the show, for some reason it fills me with glee and makes me happy. So be warned, I'll be using some lines from now on. Also lots of history about the Citadel in here… And due to its original length I decided to cut this one in half again because this time it actually made more sense.**

 **And for those faithful reviewers: THANK YOU SO MUCH!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: For The Love Of Home**

8 January 1978

Arthur followed the rest of the inhabitants out of the chamber and towards the Main Court. Nothing had been decided in the end. Or at least not something that would solve their problems. Uther had closed the meeting for dinner and planned a next one in a couple of days so everyone could ponder on the matters some more.

As Arthur entered the Main Court the feeling of being home only grew. He loved this place: the fire pit in the middle, the rows of stone benches filled with cushions rising up towards the ceiling like some old amphitheatre on three sides, the vast space at the entrance of the hall where the children played. Now they were also three long tables placed for dinner and it smelled delicious.

"Where's Robbie?" He asked after looking around and spotting every other child but that one.

Rose heard his question and answered, "Brooding upstairs in the watchtower." The woman smiled as she went on, "Sound familiar?"

"Not you as well, Rose." Arthur declared sounding desperate despite the fact that he had a hard time remaining serious. It did sound familiar, but what was everyone's deal with taking a dig at his teenage years?

…

After excusing himself to Leon, June and Nolan who'd been trying to coax the whole story about the missing sword out of him, he made a quick detour to his room for his warm coat and went out. Through the broken windows of the outer buildings he could see that the first stars were already visible in the sky.

He jogged up the steel staircase welded inside the former chimney in order to get warm. Once up there was a whiff of smoke in the air but Arthur dismissed that oddity and addressed the wayward boy. Robbie hadn't hit his growth spurt yet and huddled behind his bent knees the dark-haired youth looked even smaller.

"I heard you've been putting my lessons to good use." Arthur announced his arrival as he went to sit next to Robbie on the floor. The boy was leaning back against the low wall and stubbornly not looking at him. Aside from that last part this was all very familiar. Robbie usually kept him company whenever it was his turn to man the watchtower and had so for years.

"Go away." Robbie muttered clearly. Arthur tried not to smile or sigh and continued, "Morgana has picked up on that though so you might need to tone it down a bit. She's downright scary when she's angry."

"She thought it was funny," argued the boy finally looking back at him.

"I never said she was going to be angry with you." Arthur assented, "She still thinks you're adorable."

Robbie didn't rise to the bait. Instead he kept staring thoughtfully at Arthur who couldn't help but squirm a bit. The boy sighed and stated more than asked, "You're going to leave again, aren't you?"

"Why would you say that?" Arthur was honestly baffled by that remark.

"I just know." Robbie shrugged his shoulders and declared, "I want to come with you."

"You can't and believe me it's not about your age." Arthur began adding the last part quickly before they restarted that argument again. He continued, "During the meeting it was decided nobody's going to go out until we figure out what's going on out there."

Robbie furrowed his brow and raised puzzled, "That's illogical."

"Tell me about it," agreed Arthur wholeheartedly.

"What's going on then?" The boy asked next and without any more coaxing Arthur told him about what had happened. Robbie remained silent and pensive throughout the whole story. Arthur suspected he had known or at least guessed some of it since it involved his brother and sister. However during the retelling of the attack of the giant slimy lizard Robbie suddenly snorted.

"What?" Arthur asked indignantly.

"Sorry," the boy apologised unconvincingly, "It's just a funny image to see you trying to get your sword out. You loved that sword." Robbie explained with mirth and Arthur couldn't help but grin as well. He was glad the boy wasn't freaking out by now, honestly adults give children a lot less credit than they deserve.

"So do you see why I need you to stay here?" Arthur asked becoming serious again, "Whoever's out there, you might scare them off with your fire."

"You know I can't control that," the boy pointed out.

"Robbie?"

"Yes Arthur?"

"What else would you call consistently turning your tests to ash because you don't want to take them?" He asked with a knowing grin.

Robbie's expression suddenly screamed guilty as charged and the boy grumbled, "You figured that out then?"

"Sorry to shatter that illusion." Arthur said unapologetically while tousling the boy's dark hair eliciting an indignant, "Shove off!", from Robbie. The young man went on still grinning after his hand had been slapped away, "I'm also quite sure your grandfather caught on as well. He's just too amused by it to say anything."

"Brilliant," Robbie told him sarcastically.

"So go on then, I'm cold." Arthur urged him on. After Robbie rolled his eyes at him the boy held out his hand and soon a small flame crackled into existence an inch above his palm. It grew until it was the size and shape of a small ball. Soon the top of the watchtower was warming up considerably and belatedly Arthur realised this was where that smell of smoke had come from.

"You've been practising." Arthur concluded impressed.

"I wanted to win our next argument about going out with you." Robbie explained and made a fist so the flames were extinguished, "I can't believe you found an even better argument against it this time."

"Well, if it weren't for the creepy bloody X's I would've probably let you." Arthur admitted honestly still feeling more than a bit awed at the display, "But-"

"Yes, I heard you," interjected Robbie. "It would be a lot easier to stay mad at you if you weren't this reasonable."

"And you sound too reasonable to be a teenager," countered Arthur.

"Tell everyone else, will you?" The boy asked being both exasperated and amused, "They keep comparing me to you. I keep saying I'm not that bad. They answer with a firm 'not yet'. It's annoying."

"Tell me about it." Arthur stated again. They were both quiet for a while looking up at the stars and deep in thought. Arthur was mostly thinking about what he would need for his upcoming journey. A replacement sword for starters. The thing was that there were only a few that had the right fit so to speak. He glanced to his side having no idea what the kid was thinking.

It seemed like only yesterday that a six-year-old Robbie had followed him around everywhere he went as Arthur tried to stop everything from crashing down. It was the beginning of a new year but the winter so far had been particularly harsh and early autumn storms had made scavenging difficult so food was becoming scarce as well. Nolan, June's husband, Uncle Archie and Michael had left the day before to scour for food when all went to hell.

Just like in 1962 nobody knew how the sickness arrived but it had been utterly brutal. His mother and father caught it and so did Alex, Duncan, Agatha, Robert, the four-year-old Peter, Tom, Gwen, Edith, Evy, Alan, the three-year-old Violet, Hazel, Olaf, Vivian, Lewis, Marian, Percy, Henry and Rose. In less than two days every family had been infected and to make matters worse the sickness struck the adults the hardest.

To this day Arthur doesn't know what he would have done if Gaius, Alice and Helen had become sick as well. They had tirelessly cared for the sick. Margaret, Rya and Lilian had helped while trying to keep life as normal as possible and making sure everyone had enough food. But it had been Arthur who had to step up and take control of the Citadel, making tough decisions like quarantining old Geoffrey and June who had been pregnant of Nathan at the time. Or arranging burials…

So as Arthur went from room to room to stop the rest of his peers from panicking and in hindsight giving orders to everyone including Margaret of all people, Robbie followed him. And then boy became sick as well making Arthur fear that every measure he had taking had been for naught. He'd spent hours holding vigilance over his friends and family until a week had passed and the three scavengers had returned with more than enough food to feed the survivors.

It was not a happy return however. Little Peter Scott had been the first to die. Duncan had been so feverish at the time that he hadn't even known so it had been Helen, the boy's mother, Arthur and Leon who buried him. Edith Wood, Evy's mother, Hazel Quinn, Vivian and Owain's mother, Marian Burke, Percy's mother and Henry Green, Gwaine's father had died like Arthur's own mother in that horrible week.

And that hadn't been the end of it because the recovery took some time and by the time February came around everyone was so used to follow Arthur's lead that the realization had scared him. Because nobody seemed to understand that he had failed to protect his family, his home. They spoke of his courage but he couldn't help but feel like a coward.

That had been the start of it. To escape the high expectations he felt he couldn't live up to Arthur had gone on scavenger hunts on his own. And that had culminated, rather dramatically now that he looked back, with him running away for months after a raging fight with his father. Truth to be told the anger he had felt for years had waned but habits are harder to break it seemed.

Arthur sighed and couldn't believe he had honestly been thinking about allowing the boy to accompany him. But looking at Robbie now he did get it why everyone had taking to comparing the two of them. The boy had the same odd determination, Morgana would've called it stubbornness no doubt, that he saw in himself.

"I would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone what I'm planning." Arthur raised after his grumbling stomach had effectively disrupted their companionable silence.

"I won't." Robbie reassured him, "I promise I'll keep everyone safe until you get back."

"Good, now let's head back underground," suggested Arthur as he stood up and held out his hand to help the boy up. "Margaret has made something wonderful no doubt."

"Sean told me we were getting ghost carrots." Robbie commented while letting Arthur pull him to his feet. He grinned, "He said you killed them, but that it was okay because they were sad."

"Brilliant." Arthur echoed Robbie's earlier tone of voice as they descended the steps side by side.

…

"I see you've managed to get my son down."

Arthur looked up at that as he entered the Main Court after dropping of his coat off once more. Alex was sitting on one of the highest tiered seat closest to the door and it was beyond obvious that he had been waiting for Arthur to arrive. The young man followed Alex's gaze and spotted Robbie already sitting in between his brother and Owain. All three of them were chuckling about something. Arthur turned back towards the older man and hopped up the stone steps before taking a seat next to him.

Alex, short for Alexander, Brewer had been seventeen years old with big dreams before that day in June. He had quite a mind and just like his father he would have gone to Cambridge in the autumn. He had wanted to study science, specifically biology in the hope someday to become part of the laboratory where Crick and Watson had made a breakthrough in the structure of DNA. The scientists had just published their discovery in April that year and young Alex had been fascinated.

The earthquake however had shattered many dreams but instead of becoming embittered Alex had made new ones. At his age he felt like an explorer venturing out into the unknown. And as a young boy Arthur had been awed by the man, calling him Uncle Alex with much more fondness than he called his real uncle that. Because honestly, the man was really cool.

It had been Uncle Alex who had taught him the constellations after Arthur had sneaked out to the watchtower when he was seven years old. It had been Uncle Alex that had taken him under his wing when his father deemed him old enough to become a scavenger. It had been time to grow up and to stop dreaming, his father had told him, something that caused a huge argument between Uther and Uncle Alex.

"It was me he was angry with," stated Arthur easily.

"He wasn't angry, just-" The older man started to explain.

"Worried, yeah, I got that too." Arthur interrupted him however and grimaced, "I took the liberty of informing him of what the meeting was all about. I hope I didn't cross any boundaries."

"Robbie would have figured it out within the day. I swear, sometimes it's like he can read minds." Alex joked but Arthur could tell the man was at least partly serious.

"Now how are you really doing? And don't give me that whole nonchalant façade you'd put on for the meeting." Alex ordered much like his father had done hours ago. Like Gaius the man had an eye for spotting something amiss.

"I'll sleep it off." Arthur reassured the man who kept staring at him sceptically before he too, like Gaius, gave a resigned sigh.

Alex gently clasped his shoulder and looked at him sternly, "I expect at least two nights under this roof."

Arthur nodded his acquiesce and after another gently squeeze the older man went back down and left him to his thoughts. Yes, the man truly knew him too well.

He remained seated where he was however because Morgana was clearly headed his way with a plate of steaming food which was as equally suspicious as sweet.

His sister sat down next to him and basically shoved the plate in his hands with a smirk, "Have some food, nobody likes grumpy Arthur."

"Who told you that? Freya, June?" Arthur asked after savouring his first bite. He really, _really_ missed this kind of food out in the wild.

"Neither of them." Morgana gazed down to the middle of the Main Court were Rya and Alice were already surrounded by Mia, Susan, Matthew, Violet, Nathan and Sean trying to convince the women to tell them their favourite stories.

"Nathan?" Arthur's eyes briefly widened with surprise before he glared at his sister and accused, "I knew I detected some of your corruption already."

"You have Robbie." Morgana argued back, "I'm entitled to my own minion."

"Oh, you're going to be a great mother one day." He muttered just loud enough to warrant being slapped on the arm.

"You're insufferable sometimes."

"It's part of my charm." Arthur countered with a smirk taking another bite.

Morgana was unimpressed and asked, "Charmed Gwen lately? I saw you two enter together."

"You're nosy." He pointed out and just continued eating. His disinclination to elaborate clearly frustrated his sister which was exactly why he did it in the first place.

"I just want to return the favour," explained Morgana with a shrug before elaborating, "I talked to Leon while you slept."

"And?" Arthur grinned.

"He wants to do this proper." She complained with a huff, "So he's going to talk to Dad."

"Of course he is, Leon's the very definition of proper."

Morgana rolled her eyes at that but didn't comment knowing he was right of course. Arthur used the newfound silence to continue eating, wondering for the first time if Margaret or Morgana or whoever filled his plate thought he was half-starved considering the staggering amount.

"You know everyone's thinking about Lance."

Morgana had an uncanny talent of timing when to say shocking, out of the blue things like that. For instance just when Arthur took a large bite of Spam and almost choked on the piece of pork.

Lance, yes, of course everyone was thinking about him. Bayard's only son and golden boy stumbled into the settlement three years ago. He'd been separated from the rest of his group, mauled by a hungry wolf and dehydrated. Yet somehow, Arthur knew it had been nothing but pure luck, the man had found his way to the Citadel.

Once the fever broke, thanks to Alice and Gaius' administrations, Arthur actually got along quite well with him. Lance was almost three years older than him being born a year and a few months after the earthquake making him younger that Leon, supposedly, and older than Gwaine and Elyan. At that time Arthur had still felt the loss of Gwaine's friendship sharply. So he and Lance became fast friends during the young man's recovery.

That is until Lance showed interest in Gwen.

"Yes." He mumbled surly.

"And you know Gwen thinks you still see her like a sister or like the annoying little girl that tagged along?" His sister went on clearly aware about why exactly Lance went back to his own settlement after living with them for months even after his recovery.

"Yes, I know Morgana." He grimaced.

"You're an idiot, you know that right?" Morgana concluded harshly.

"She's intimidating." Arthur tried to explain.

Morgana pursed her lips unimpressed, "Sweet Gwen? Really? She wouldn't hurt a fly unless it were verbally or physically attacking someone she cared about. I'm intimidating, Vivian is intimidating."

"Actually, it's Olaf that's intimidating. Have you seen that man's right arm?" Arthur reasoned, "And it doesn't matter, I'm not in love with Vivian."

"You're in love with Gwen?" Morgana repeated surprised. For all her insight she evidently hadn't suspected the depth of his feelings yet and Arthur mentally banged his head to a wall for divulging this much.

"I don't want to talk about it." He stated and took a large bit of food focusing his attention on the fire pit below.

It was burning low now and Rya and Alice had pulled a couple of cushions closer so that they and the children were sitting in a circle around it. Most of the inhabitants had either pulled a chair closer or nicked a cushion as well to listen in because listening to stories was everyone's favourite time of the day.

Alice was just winding up the tale of the day hungry wolves and dogs came to the Citadel and while every child had heard that one before it was still awfully thrilling. Arthur found it especially amusing since 'Morgana and the Wolves' contained the sentence: 'She huffed and puffed and stamped her small feet on the ground but no grown-up believed her.' Morgana didn't mind the story at all, despite that sentence, because as she had smugly explained to him one day, the basic conclusion of the tale was that she was always right.

It also sounded a lot less scary than what truly happened. Arthur remembered the day well. It was the 15th of December 1969 just a month before nearly every child lost a parent. It had ceased storming and because their water supply had diminished to almost nothing many of the inhabitants had been out making the short trek to the nearly frozen river.

Morgana had dreamed two nights already of wolves attacking but nobody thought more of it. They were just nightmares everyone said except Arthur because Morgana swore it was true. So when she asked him to nick some swords and smuggle them outside, he did that without questioning it. In the middle of hauling buckets back to the entrance at least fifteen starved wolves and dogs attacked. On that day Arthur discovered he could wield a sword pretty well.

"So which one do you want to hear next?" Rya asked after Alice finished. Of course everyone, not just the children, had their suggestions.

"Alice in Wonderland." Susan proposed while she raised her hand. She was the only one though, the rest just shouted their preferences which made it sort of hard to hear. Meanwhile Arthur brought his empty plate to the table and sat next to Leon just behind the half circle of eager children.

"The one with the cowardly lion!" Gwaine called from the back.

"The Sword in The Stone!" Matthew shouted suddenly. That was a rare request but after glancing quickly in Arthur's direction Rya went on to hear the other suggestions. It was no secret that Arthur hated that story. It wasn't always the case though, as a boy he had loved hearing about the adventures of his namesake. That changed about the same time as his arguments with his father increased.

"I want to hear more about us." Nathan insisted.

"What do you mean?" The woman asked genuinely interested.

"Like Morgana and the wolves but another one I don't know." The little boy explained.

"Okay, does that sound like a good idea?" Rya agreed receiving only nods in reply, "Well, it's a short story but I don't think one of you have heard about how Leon came to the Citadel." She briefly glanced at her adoptive son who nodded his agreement. It was a nice story the way Rya told it and she was right, Arthur didn't think even Robbie had heard that one before.

"Once upon a time there lived a raven with such vast majestic wings that he could block out the sun if he wanted to." Rya began, "His feathers were black and gleamed beautifully underneath every light whether it came from the sun, the moon or the stars. The raven loved flying around the Earth seeing all the little people and animals mix and mingle together. It made him happy but also sad."

"You see, the raven was the only one of its kind left and every time he circled the Earth he hoped to find another one just like him. But he never did. So he flew on and on until centuries had passed and the world changed so much he could scarcely recognize it. The raven was also a bit scared."

"Why was he scared if he was so big?" Nathan asked puzzled.

"You can be scared even if you're big." Rya explained easily before she continued, "He was afraid that he would be caught and imprisoned in a cage so the raven rarely landed anymore and flew only during the night which turned his feathers even darker. Now one time not so long ago something terrible happened to the Earth. He didn't know what it was because he was just a simple bird but when he flew over he saw that the lights were out everywhere."

"The earthquake." Mia stated knowingly.

"Exactly, but the raven didn't know what that was. He went out during the day and didn't recognize anything anymore. There were mountains where there hadn't been and deep holes where everything had been flat before. The animals were gone and so were the people. Can you guess what the raven did next?"

The children shook their heads while listening enraptured.

"He flew because that was what he did best. He flew across the continents and the oceans, he flew across Europe and he flew across England and that was when he heard it. A soft cry, so quiet that the raven had almost missed it, but he didn't and curiously he landed. It might be a mouse or a robin, he thought. But the raven was wrong, it wasn't a mouse nor a robin but a small baby boy left all alone."

"Now the raven didn't know what to do. He was just a simple bird he told himself and he didn't know how to take care of a human child who lived on the ground instead of in the sky. But there was no one else. Meanwhile the little boy had stopped crying and was smiling at him. Now the raven knew what he had to do but it was difficult. You see, he was still a raven not a man. How can a bird look after a child?"

"So during that night the raven wished on every shooting star. And the stars who had been his companions for many centuries listened and decided to grant the raven his wish. The stars warned him though that it was not without danger, that he could lose a bit of himself along the way. And he could only stay a human for as many days that he had black feathers. The raven agreed and when he woke up in the sunlight he had been turned into a man with pitch-black hair."

"The boy grew and the raven-turned-man cared for the little boy month after month. And for every day that passed some of his black hair turned white. In the beginning the raven-turned-man didn't notice. Living on the Earth was hard and he was so busy looking for food, water and shelter that he even forgot how it felt to fly. But one night the stars warned him."

"They said: look at your white hair, raven friend. You only have a few black ones left. The raven-turned-man was shocked that time had flown by so quickly. He begged the stars to help him because the boy was still so very young, but the stars couldn't do more. So the raven-turned-man walked and walked searching for someone else to take care of the boy before his time was up."

"When he had only one black hair left the raven-turned-man stumbled onto our plain. It was a beautiful spring day and almost everyone was out either working on the fields where we plant our vegetables or making repairs in the sunlight. The raven-turned-man was both sad and happy that he had found the boy other humans just in time. He had felt strange all day, wingless and weaker, while the sleeping boy had felt almost too heavy to carry."

"Now the raven-turned-man knew he had frightened the humans with his sudden appearance but he stared from one person to the other before walking straight to a woman. She had been resting in the sun because she was very pregnant and the baby had been kicking her the whole night." Rya paused with a smile and Mia was the first one who caught on.

"That was you and Elyan was your baby!"

"Correct, but he wasn't born yet. Meanwhile Tom had rushed to my side of course, my knight in shining armour, but I knew there was no danger."

"Did you know it was a magical bird?" Nathan asked completely encompassed with the tale.

"Not yet, but I soon learned." Rya answered and went on, "The raven-turned-man knew he had chosen well when the woman accepted the little sleeping boy gently. He didn't say anything but leaned forward and gave a kiss on the child's forehead to say goodbye. Just then he felt the magic of the stars leaving him and quickly stepped back so that it could take root in the boy as continued protection."

"Then a white blinding light filled our fields and when it diminished the man was gone. Instead there sat a small raven on the ground. But that was not the strangest thing. His feathers were all white not beautiful like the snow but like there was something missing. After a few weak tries the raven managed to fly up. He soared towards the sun never to be seen again. The end."

"He never came back?" Susan pouted.

Rya sadly shook her head, "I think he has to get his black feathers back first. When that happens he'll return of course but that can take a long time."

"Is this really a true story?" Nathan tilted his head sceptically. Now before Rya could answer Robbie crouched down next to the boy and told him, "Of course it is. See, this is how the raven looked like."

Robbie waved his hand before the fire and a small fiery bird suddenly escaped from the middle of the burning logs eliciting louds gasps of wonder as it flew briefly above their heads. It was awfully detailed and of course everyone immediately made a suggestion for the next animal. Robbie conjured one animal after the other knowing that the questions would follow no doubt.

Arthur approved of this rather dramatic way of revealing his control of his gift not only because it was downright impressive. It also proved to be the excellent distraction to talk to Leon undisturbed. His friend was rather transfixed by the display but instead of surprise like everyone else showed, Leon's face was one of confusion.

"Do you ever think of him?" Arthur inquired cautiously.

"The raven-turned-man?" Leon looked at him and sighed before nudging his head in the direction of the fire, "Sometimes. Right now for instance I'm almost positive that I've seen someone shape flames to resemble animals before."

"Only those born after the earthquake have these gifts and even then it's rare. You and me are the perfect example." Arthur reminded him. Neither of them had ever shown any signs of having such talents.

"I know," His friend nodded, "It's probably just a dream that feels like a memory."

Everyone except the youngest ones knew what truly happened. The fairy tale of Rya was just so much better than the reality which was that a crazy old man walked up to the Citadel one day and dropped little Leon off. The whole encounter only lasted mere minutes and Leon's presence was the only reason Tom and Rya were sure that they hadn't dreamed that bizarre moment. The old man had left without saying anything except that the little one's parents were dead. Hence the name Leon as the two-year-old toddler hadn't listened to anything else.

* * *

11 January 1978

Arthur lasted two more days before his backpack was packed and ready again. He hauled it onto his shoulders, zipped his old pilot jacket close and for the hundred time checked if the replacement sword was fastened to his belt.

He had informed Leon and Robbie of his plans on the same night. He was also pretty sure Morgana knew. Every time she looked at him her expression became unreadable. So that made this not sneaking out. Although that was exactly what Arthur was doing in these early hours. His dynamo torch lit up the dark corridors as he passed door after door of sleeping friends.

So when he turned the last corner to the hatchway he was surprised that his light fell upon a figure sitting on the steps leading out. The man blocked the soft light of the oil lamp next to him which was why Arthur hadn't spotted him earlier.

"Arthur." Uther greeted as he gazed up at his son wearily. The man was fully-clothed as if he never went to bed that night, not even for a few short hours like Arthur had done.

"Father." He greeted back as if meeting the man here on the steps was an everyday occurrence. Uther didn't say anything else so Arthur heard himself starting to explain his actions, "I talked to Margaret. If we ration our food we can last two months. That's my deadline."

"To do what?" Uther asked.

"Find out what the hell is going on out there." Arthur declared as he waved his arm in a wide arc before pointing at the door to support his statement.

His father sighed deeply, "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Are you here to stop me?" Arthur inquired not really wanting to shove his father aside if it came to that. He was already calculating the speed he needed to get to the latch though. The older man was slower with his walking stick.

"No." His father stated and the younger man immediately stepped passed him before the man had a chance to change his mind, "But I would rather you go out to find ourselves a better place to live." Uther raised.

Arthur stopped halfway up the steps and turned back around. That was unexpected and a completely radical idea. Immediately he felt himself rebelling against that suggestion, because this was home, but he knew Uther wouldn't say something like that without reason.

"What do you mean?" He asked stumped even retracing his three last steps.

"Food's getting so scarce. We won't last another two years if we remain here." Uther predicted morosely, "You know it to be true. Every time you go out on scavenger hunts the journeys become longer. Scarce resources have always been the main reason for violence. It doesn't matter if it's between us and Bayard or Annis or even a new group making itself known, sooner or later this was always going to happen."

His father sounded so sure but Arthur had a hard time imagining murdering someone else over food especially people he knew. And while he had killed animals out of necessity or in self-defence he had never raised a weapon to another person, training exercises obviously didn't count. Honestly his father's rather harsh vision of the future unbalanced him for so many reasons.

Arthur had opened his mouth to at the very least assure his father that he would look for a promising place when he realized something else, "Hang on, how did you know I was leaving?"

"Let me come with you." Leon stepped into the hallway just then carrying his own rucksack.

Great, Arthur thought sarcastically though if he was honest this didn't surprise him. It did surprise him that he had let his father stall him so effectively.

"No." Arthur decided firmly without needing to even think about it and turned back around. Or tried to but since Leon was obviously not impressed with that simple statement the man had taken to grab his arm. Arthur glared at his friend's hand until Leon released him as he asked, "Why?"

"Because I don't want to risk losing you."

"You risk yourself." Leon countered easily.

"That's different." Arthur dismissed his friend's argument completely while quickly calculating what his chances were of outrunning Leon. He grimaced. The odds weren't as good as with his father.

"How?" Leon demanded as he crossed his arms.

"You are our good luck charm, our rabbit's foot, our curly haired mascot-" He started to sum up.

"Says the bloke who clearly has a guardian angel." Leon interjected.

"But that only works for me. Your luck rubs off on everyone." Arthur pointed out before leaning closer and whispered so that his father couldn't listen in, "I need you to stay here. Morgana leans on you. My father leans on you."

He stepped back again and amiably clasped Leon's shoulder before ordering, "So you stay here, spread that fairy dust or whatever your secret is and I'll go test the boundaries of my so-called guardian angel."

"Be careful." His father suddenly said and Arthur knew in that moment he had won this argument. Leon sighed resigned as he looked down at his feet.

"I will." The young man reassured them both, "I know what I'm doing." And because that was so completely true neither of them protested when Arthur walked up the stairs, opened the latch and stepped out.

…

A pale sun was slowly rising in the east lighting up the stretched out plains left of the Citadel where the cliffs ended. On top of the watchtower two figures held vigilance over the lands. In the distance Leon could hardly distinguish his friend from the background anymore.

"Do you think he'll return?" He asked.

"I have to believe that." Uther barely whispered having already lost sight of his son an half hour ago. He turned back towards the younger man and began matter-of-factly, "Now Leon, we should consider fortifying the Citadel…"

…

Underground Gwen sat up with a start when a horrifying scream echoed through the Citadel. Without thinking she grabbed her torch, ran out in the hallway almost bumping into her half dazed brother who hit his head against the doorway to get out of her way. Not that Gwen noticed any of that. She was solely focused on reaching Morgana's room.

It was just two more doors down and Gwen rushed in without knocking. Her friend was huddled on her bed as close to the walls as humanly possible and had her hands pressed tightly against her eyes and forehead no doubt trying to block out whatever she had Seen.

Gwen ignored the smoke and the pile of burning clothes on one of the chairs with a dismissive glance and crawled on Morgana's bed knowing the first thing she needed to do was to calm the frantic girl down.

"Morgana, listen to me." Gwen urged as she grabbed her friend's hands and forcefully tugged them away. She felt they were wet with tears, "You're all right. You're in your room with me, see?"

Meanwhile Elyan had followed her in and dumped a whole bucket of water on the burning clothes. Gwen briefly looked over her shoulder and saw that Mary was there as well while several people stood in the darkened doorway. This was not the first time Morgana had woken up most of the Citadel. It had been a long time however since her reaction to one of her visions was this extreme.

"Morgana, please open your eyes." She pressed softly as she continued to soothe her friend. Arthur and later Leon had always managed to calm her down quickly so Gwen looked back at the entrance again hoping one of them had arrived by now.

"It's all right. Everything is all right." She kept whispering until Morgana visibly stopped trembling and looked up. She resembled a ghost.

"Gwen?", was her confused question.

"Yes," Gwen breathed relieved and smiled encouragingly, "Are you with me again?"

But Morgana didn't answer her question. Instead she turned away and started to cry silently once more while burying her face against her pulled-up knees.

"I'm sorry, I'm so _so_ sorry…"

* * *

 **Possibly my most ominous ending so far… To compensate, next chapter will be up tomorrow : )**


	7. Ch 6: The Darkest Corners Of The Earth

**A/N: I've posted a summary of the families of the Citadel on my profile for those interested. IDOM...  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Darkest Corners Of The Earth**

16 January 1978

Arthur paused briefly to refill his water bottle at a small fast running stream. The landscape was a lot different here than at home. The cliffs weren't as high but they were much more numerous and lone standing rock formations were the norm making navigating around here difficult.

It felt a bit like hiking through a maze where entering one wrong narrow gorge may lead you to an entirely different place than planned. There were also a lot of caves nearby hiding unexpected treasures. On a scavenger hunt a few years back for example they discovered actual houses underneath the earth, buried and closed off since the day of the earthquake, but still in perfect condition.

He looked up at the sun and then noted the long shadows on the ground. By his estimation he could probably reach Bayard's train tunnel just before nightfall if he wanted to but that didn't seem like a smart idea. Without knowing what he would find there Arthur didn't want to arrive at the camp with only an hour of daylight left.

After stashing his bottle away he veered a bit to the west instead following a nice patch of greenery. It wasn't exactly green but yeah, that was what it was. Arthur couldn't describe it any other way. It wasn't the first time he encountered one of these, again for lack of a better word, lines. And every time he did he had felt inclined to follow it a bit. It felt safe, less polluted maybe, less harsh and by now Arthur had learned to trust his instincts no matter how baseless they appeared.

Weirdly enough there were always more of these lines whenever he travelled in the direction of the other two settlements. He had wondered once if they were similar to the ley lines he had read about. Whatever was going on this criss-cross pattern of green in the cold winter wind was surely a sign that the world would turn out okay.

The journey so far had been uneventful. He had made good time, a benefit of travelling alone and not needing much rest. And with the exception of the birds and the occasional small animal so far, he had the feeling that he was alone in the world. Even finding one of those crossed out Mr. Chad drawings that very morning didn't diminish the feeling though he had to admit he probably would've freaked out like Gwaine if he hadn't known about it beforehand.

It looked menacingly. To make matters worse the blood was clearly smeared across the stencilled cartoon by hands as Arthur could see tips of the individual fingers at the top of each line. The blood seemed old though which wasn't exactly reassuring if you really thought about it. It was also pretty damn close to Bayard's camp.

Best case scenario was that tomorrow he would have the privilege to yell at the practical joker. Worst case scenario…

He really didn't want to think about that.

* * *

17 January 1978

When Arthur woke up it was to the sound of birds hopping on and off the roof of the car. Just to be on the safe side he hadn't slept in a known haunt but found shelter in an old rusty vehicle half buried beneath the dirt. It had been out of the wind and the leather seat upholstery had been remarkably intact making this one of his softer sleeping accommodations out in the wild.

Outside it was still dark though he knew dawn was not far off. The birds were a big clue to that. So he stretched his cramped legs and carefully pulled himself out unto the ground. It was freezing cold but after some warming up exercises Arthur sat back down against the car with his blanket pulled closely around him.

He ate some nuts while waiting for the sun to rise and rinsed away the dry feeling of his mouth with some water. He drank sparsely however as his bottle was almost empty. A big black crow cheekily stepped towards his backpack probably thinking it was being inconspicuous and no doubt hoping to steal some food. Arthur shooed it away.

After a few days in the wild he had barely enough left to feed himself as he hadn't wanted to take too many supplies from the Citadel. He had been in luck though. On his second day since leaving home he caught a small rabbit overnight in his snare. Arthur had taken time to skin the animal and smoke the fine strips of meat above a small fire for breakfast. Unfortunately the rabbit itself was clearly starved so it had just been enough for one en route meal.

Since he approached Bayard's camp from a different direction this time it wasn't easy to find his way down to the valley, hitting two dead ends and having to turn around a third time when one ravine was too broad to jump over. Once he did happen to stumble upon the valley he knew immediately that something was dreadfully wrong. Arthur thanked his foresight of the day before.

He crawled closer to the edge on his stomach and peered down through a pair of binoculars for some time as he tried to decide how to approach this best. The entrance to the train tunnel, some hundred feet below him, was empty just like the vast patch of dirt in front of it. When he visited in the past there had always been children out playing or men and women doing odd repairs or chores even in winter. Unlike at the Citadel electricity, and therefore sufficient light, was a rarity.

But now it was just eerily quiet.

Arthur bit his lip rather anxiously feeling unnerved for a change. There was no right or safe way to approach this so after dawdling for a couple of more minutes he climbed down the final ledge wincing as the sound of loose stones shifting beneath his feet echoed loudly. Once he was on the same height with the entrance Arthur crouched back down and observed the camp again from his new vantage point.

The entrance was still empty and dark. There were no voices nor laughter to be heard. Dreading what he had to do next, Arthur took out his dynamo torch and stood back up leaving his rucksack behind for now, hidden between some boulders, but not his sword. He hadn't drawn it yet but his hand rested tensely on its pommel.

In the silence the sound of the dynamo was all the more louder. He followed one of the train tracks which was almost buried below the earth to the entrance. Only the top of the cast iron rails were still visible so that silvery lines led the way.

As he got closer the high roof of the tunnel loomed over him and the shadow line between light and dark felt ominous. Just before stepping into the shade Arthur halted. He could see an upturned table now and a couple of broken chairs but further down the tunnel everything was still pitch-black as the light of his torch wasn't strong enough. He should probably announce his arrival but shouting – or even talking – seemed like the worst idea ever.

Arthur looked around the valley and saw nothing else but the dark depressing stones of the cliffs. Steeling himself he took a deep breath and stepped into the shade. Immediately the air felt cooler and he was glad that he had kept his gloves on this morning. As he walked deeper inside the tunnel Arthur got more and more glimpses of what had happened here. It wasn't encouraging.

The destroyed table and chairs were just the beginning. Most of the benches around a large fire pit were lying on their side, some of them charcoaled, others shattered to bits. Cooking utensils, pieces of cloth, a chess set were spread out on the floor and covered with dust. Sometimes it was hard to even see what was lying on the ground before him. Just to be on the safe side Arthur walked around any object. A few steps later he crouched down and gently dusted off a stuffed bear. He placed it back down on a wooden crate.

There was an odd smell in the air not really putrid but unpleasant nonetheless. It caused the hairs on his arms to rise and Arthur cursed himself for not bringing a stronger source of light. The torch was perfect for navigating through narrow hallways or around the smaller haunts he had stayed in during his travels, but in this huge tunnel the beam often met nothingness giving Arthur the feeling something was creeping up on him. Which was ridiculous he told himself as he ventured deeper and deeper into the tunnel because he could hear nothing but his own hollow footsteps echoing against the walls.

He halted and looked back for a moment. The sunlit entrance seemed so far away already. Arthur turned around again and started his investigation once more. He knew that the living compartments were located all the way in the back where the tunnel ended at a cave-in. Something suddenly rustled nearby.

Arthur nearly tripped over some cushions as he hurriedly stepped back shining his torch in the general direction of the noise. Two small beady eyes lit up in the darkness and a heartbeat later a large rat scurried away. Feeling foolishly Arthur resheathed his sword while trying to calm his racing heart. He truly hoped that nothing bigger than a rat was hiding in the dark.

A few feet away he spotted something useful at last. In an open crate three oil lamps sat undamaged. He checked the amount of oil and, satisfied with the quantity in each lamp, lit them all with the lighter he always carried. Instantly the tunnel became just a little less frightening. Arthur placed the lamps in a large triangle so that he could thoroughly search a larger area.

He was standing in what was supposed to be the kitchen area. Huge cabinets used to line these walls. They were now all destroyed and their content spread out on the dust covered floor. Arthur turned to the other side of the tunnel and frowned. Cautiously he walked to the wall there grabbing one of the oil lamps in passing. There were several large circular scorch marks on the concrete here. Arthur carefully traced the charred area. It was as if something burning had been smashed against the wall and exploded. Robbie's fireball came to mind.

Arthur followed the wall further down. A few yards ahead a writing lesson appeared to have been broken off abruptly. School banks and chairs were overturned while papers and books were spread across the floor. Most unnervingly was the chalked sentence on the blackboard. 'Charlie finds a dozen' was cut off and the letter 'n' was prolonged in a downright direction stopping only at the edge of the board.

After leaving the ruined classroom behind Arthur finally found what he had feared the moment he saw the upturned table.

He warily stepped closer to the body. This was not the first dead person he had come across during his life but it was the most damaged one. Apart from being heavily charcoaled the remains had been gnawed on making it harder to figure out what had caused this man's death. That it had been a man was a guess as well based on length and the broadness of the shoulders.

Arthur knew the names and faces of every person that had lived in this settlement. Granted his information was three years old but standing here next to the body of someone he knew, someone who probably didn't die from the sickness or a tragic accident hit him hard. Before making a conscious decision to do so Arthur turned around and ran.

He didn't stop running until he felt the sun on his face and promptly threw up his meagre breakfast. Feeling miserably Arthur stalked to his backpack and rinsed his mouth. He sat on one of the boulders for a time deliberating what to do next. It was clear that Bayard's people were gone although Arthur still didn't know if the tunnel had become one giant tomb or if the dead man was the only corpse in there.

There was no one else around however so the grisly task of find an answer to that question fell solely on him. So he should stop whining, he told himself firmly. After that pathetic pep talk Arthur got up and marched into the darkness once more. Fortunately in the distance the three oil lamps were still burning and this time his eyes adjusted to the feeble light much quicker.

It was past noon when Arthur re-emerged again with a shovel in hand, his jaw set. There was no mass grave hidden in the darkness behind him but he did find two more bodies in front of the train compartments. They were in similar conditions as the first corpse but the last one was so small, about Nathan's height, and that fact had simply enraged Arthur.

As he exited the tunnel Arthur strode to the right side where, like at the Citadel, graves lined the steepest cliff. He unfastened his sheathed sword and tugged off his jacket before aiming the shovel at the ground. He was just so angry and in no time he was already knee-deep in the freshly dug grave. One would have to suffice though since he really didn't want to linger here after nightfall.

He worked as fast as he could only stopping halfway through to pull off his woollen jumper and scarf as well. When the edge of the grave came to his neck, Arthur wiped the sweat of his brow and tiredly hauled himself out of there. Without pausing to rest he relit the oil lamp he left at the entrance and stalked back in.

The sun had disappeared behind the cliffs already when the young man stared down at the bottom of the grave. He sighed deeply. The three bodies were lying side by side with the smallest one in the middle between the man and woman mimicking what otherwise would've been a very peaceful family scene.

"May your souls find rest and solace away from this harsh world." Arthur whispered solemnly before he dug the shovel back in the mountain of earth. Sand and stones rained down quickly and in no time the ground was level again.

He left the shovel right there and hurried to his rucksack eyeing the long shadows with some frustration. He really didn't want to stay here a minute longer. After quickly washing the dirt off his hands and refilling his water bottle, the water tasted like sand but it was way better than going thirsty, Arthur hauled his rucksack on his weary shoulders and took off.

* * *

18 January 1978

After leaving what was left of Bayard's settlement Arthur hadn't stopped to rest once. He just marched the whole night under the light of the waxing moon with only one goal: getting as many miles between him and that place before collapsing of exhaustion. He was heading towards Annis' camp or at least that was his intention. He was waiting for the sunrise to determine how off course he was.

Because no matter how much he yearned to go back home, he had to warn them. In the Citadel everyone was on high alert already before he left and that building was at the very least much more defensible that the train tunnel had been. As far as he knew Annis' people were still unaware.

By his most optimistic calculation he should be able to reach the old harbour and surrounding caves in six days. The problem was that he had never travelled this way before. Other than knowing that he had to walk towards the west this whole landscape was unfamiliar. If turned back to the Citadel however and then go to Annis' settlement it would take him at least twice that long. And ever since leaving Bayard's camp a strange feeling of urgency had taken him in its grip.

He slumbered a bit in the early morning and built a small fire so he could warm up one of the two cans of baked beans he had found in the destroyed kitchen. There had been many more but most cans had exploded in some way. Arthur tried very hard not to think about the how but that wasn't exactly working well for him. His thoughts turned to his grisly discovery every time he wasn't careful. And the fact that he had only buried three bodies wasn't reassuring. It just meant that approximately forty people were missing.

Eating a bit and taking that short nap made Arthur feel a lot better. From one of the higher cliffs earlier he had been able to see that the way west meant that he had to cross a huge plain. This was also good news as he could really pick up speed then. This maze-like landscape only fed his paranoia, you never knew what was lying in wait around the next corner.

By the time the sun set again Arthur was already nearly across the plain which was a relief since he didn't want to spent the night in an open field. He had seen some odd tracks in the sand earlier which rather worried him as he couldn't match them with any animal he knew. That the tracks were fairly recent was obvious as the wind drew its own markings on the sand constantly.

Eventually he found shelter in between several rocks who gave the appearance that they would fall over any minute. No doubt they had been defying gravity ever since the earthquake so Arthur wasn't afraid of lying underneath them. At least he was out of the wind and the space was so small that it would eventually warm up a bit without the use of fire. After pulling his hood so far up that it covered his eyes and pushing his head repeatedly against his backpack to find the softest spot, Arthur immediately fell asleep curled on his side.

* * *

19 January 1978

It was drizzling in the morning when he woke up. It was the kind of rain which took ages to fully soak a coat. That he considered the only upside to this kind of wretched weather. Arthur opened a thin can of sliced pineapples which he ate and drank the sugary syrup to quench his thirst. A couple of minutes later he was on his way again.

If Arthur hadn't known better he would have feared that he had walked in one big circle yesterday. The landscape here was just scarily similar to the one around Bayard's camp. The rock formations and cliffs were higher though and the stones itself weren't just grey or black but showed a surprising arrays of colours like red and orange. Every now and then he passed small alcoves. The few he peered into were devoid of life making the changes of finding some decent shelter for tonight soar high.

As he weaved his way through the narrow canyons he caught himself already daydreaming of holding a cup of hot tea and drying his clothes near a blazing fire. He didn't have tea but building a fire wasn't out of the question. The rain had intensified by now which caused Arthur some trouble as he needed to cross quickly filling ditches more and more often. Already water was seeping in his boots soaking his socks. The curious blacks crows that hopped on top of the leaning ridges were the only companions to his miserable journey.

Suddenly a gigantic mass burst onto his path. Arthur let himself fall down immediately rolling out of the way. Before he was on his feet again his sword was out glistening in the rain. He almost dropped it out of shock. Standing a few yards away was a scorpion-like creature. Only it was easily as tall as him. The thing was clearly observing him as well probably bemoaning the fact that the surprise attack failed and no doubt calculating its chances of successfully attacking him again. Arthur did not like his own odds.

He edged back carefully his eyes never leaving the creature. What did he know about scorpions? It wasn't much, but the few facts he did remember weren't heartening. Meanwhile it moved nimbly on its four pair of legs, much as a spider, and the two pincers were about the size of Arthur's forearm. They were making a horrible spine-tingling clicking sound.

A scorpion also had its skeleton on the outside protecting its soft insides with armour-like skin making it hard to kill. Even more worriedly was that its stinger had risen high and was aimed in his direction. With a few exceptions scorpion venom was only deadly to small animals, Arthur remembered. The problem was that in comparison to this one, he was the small animal.

In a split second Arthur turned around and sprinted away hoping he would be able to outrun the creature. He practically flew through the narrow gorges jumping rocks not even slowing down in the bends. But while he gained a lead despite the sloping way up he could still hear the sound of the scorpion's legs as they scratched and clawed on the rocky path behind him.

When he turned another corner Arthur froze with eye-widening fear. Just a few yards from him stood another one of these monsters. He hurriedly searched for a way out of this ravine. Climbing up wasn't an option, too slow. There, he spotted a very narrow passageway to his left. It meant running towards the scorpion though. Without allowing himself to think too long about it Arthur ran swinging his backpack off one shoulder and catching it in his hand as he edged in the crack sideways.

He was a mere second too late. Arthur screamed when one of the pincers caught his thigh. The creature let go once he stabbed his sword repeatedly in the general area its eyes were in but the damage was already done. He limped further down the passage clenching his teeth in pain. Rocks were digging in his back and chest as he went on and on and then he got stuck.

One of his hand was already out of the passageway as was his rucksack but it was so dauntingly narrow here that he couldn't even turn his head to see if the other side was safe. The scorpions had left by now. At least Arthur couldn't see them trying to follow him. His heart was pounding so hard though that he couldn't hear anything else. Whether they had given up or just went to look for another way around, he didn't know.

Arthur rested his head against the rocks for a moment to calm himself down. Panicking wouldn't solve anything. He exhaled deeply and, ignoring the pain in his leg, pushed hard.

He fell gracelessly out of the crack and hurriedly scrambled back up as he tried to determine the situation he found himself in. There were no scorpions in sight and rather than moving as fast and as far away from this place as possible he knew he had to take time to assess the damage done.

Leaning back against the rock wall Arthur inspected his injured leg. His trousers were ripped in two places where the pincer had caught him and though he could only see the wound on top of his thigh it didn't look good. The scorpion had obviously missed the femoral artery, Gaius would be pleased that he remembered that bit, or he would've bled out by now. Still the cuts were deep and he saw that the ground around him was already speckled with blood.

Arthur eased himself down until he was sitting on a rock and pulled his rucksack closer. He tried to steady his shaky fingers as he struggled to get his first aid kit out noting that they too were covered in blood. After struggling for a time he managed to uncap a plastic canister and sprinkled sulphanilamide onto his injury to prevent infection. Aiming was a bit hard though and it was nearly impossible to get it on the back of his leg.

Next he lined gauze compresses on top of the cuts and then tied it all together with bandages. Arthur ended up using almost all of them when blood started to seep through the white gauze. That done he allowed himself some rest as he figured out what the hell he had to do next.

In any other circumstance Arthur would've admired the unobstructed view. He honestly wasn't sure how he ended up this high but from where he was sitting he could see above all the rocks and cliffs. He saw narrow ravines and green patches alternating each other until in the far distance an evergreen forest beckoned. It was partly hidden by a grey veil of rain but he knew that beyond the forest he could see the sea where Annis and her people lived.

It had to be.

He hauled himself up with some difficulty and limped back to the passageway to get his sword. Scorpions or not, he would need it as a crutch until he found something better. After deciding on the best way down, Arthur took a deep breath and eased himself over the edge.

* * *

20 January 1978

He hadn't encountered another scorpion and despite the growing lightheadedness managed to walk a fair couple of miles before his leg protested completely. He ended up resting in a cave where the entrance was partly hidden by the branches of a weeping willow. There were many trees in this ravine and he even managed to cut himself a better crutch.

During the night though Arthur fought against falling asleep by the warmth of the small fire. He needed the rest but nodding off would be the second worst thing to do right now. The young man was pretty sure that if he untied the bandages to clean the wounds he would pass out before being able to retie them. He ripped his spare shirt in long stripes instead and fastened the pieces of cloth as tight as he could around his left leg because the ones already there were soaked through.

By the time the sun rose Arthur knew he had to find help soon. Already a heat was rising behind his eyes, a sure sign of fever. After drinking some water and taking a sip from a flask containing excellent whisky, Arthur struggled to get back up. He pushed the branches out of the way and cautiously looked around. He didn't believe that those scorpions would give up so easily. They had to eat right? And it wasn't as if lone travellers were walking around in abundance.

As he limped further through the ravine it became wider and wider giving him the impression that he was coming to the end of the rocks and canyons. There were also a lot of low growing trees and bushes forcing Arthur to often deviate from the path he had set himself on. For now the ravine luckily led him west. Soon though he was walking in a daze. He was aware of the fact that everything was becoming surreal to him which should worry him. But in truth this feeling of being disconnected to the world around him was brilliant as his leg didn't hurt that much anymore.

The forest he had seen in the distance yesterday was still so far-off and the rational part in him was slowly giving up. Annis' camp was just too far, even without the leg wound it would still take him several days to reach. Arthur paused for a minute to refill his water bottle. He swiped his clammy face tiredly before examining his injury again. Blood was soaking through the stripes of shirt now and the skin next to it felt heated already. Arthur tied his scarf around his thigh now.

Gloomily he concluded that he would either end up as a meal or end up bleeding out before becoming a meal anyway. After taking another sip of liquid courage Arthur focused back on the way ahead. Small steps, he thought determinedly, let's try to reach that elusive forest first. Fortunately his stubborn part was much more persistent than his rational one.

The sun reached and passed its zenith and Arthur still walked on more often than not imagining being back home. It wasn't long before he started to see the people of the Citadel walking next to him. Again he knew this wasn't real, that his fevered brain – he couldn't deny that fact anymore – was conjuring up all sorts of things. But it was comforting and he drew much needed strength out of those apparitions.

His father told him to quit feeling sorry for himself and man up. Leon shook his head disbelievingly at the sight of his bandaged leg and ordered him to hang on. Morgana tapped her foot impatiently when he once paused again and told him to get moving because she didn't have all day. That he better be there at her wedding because he was an amusing drunk and she needed new blackmail material. Gwen didn't say anything but smiled that amazing smile of hers. She kept on moving though just an inch out of reach. Arthur couldn't do anything else but follow her.

Meanwhile the green ravine had once again been replaced by more rocky terrain as the small river running down the middle of it had disappeared underneath the stones. It became harder to remain focused and one time Arthur seemingly had to shook himself awake after finding himself just standing still in between the tall rising cliffs. He had never felt so confused before and had to remind himself repeatedly that he needed to keep on going. The only upside of the journey was that the path was sloping down. Nonetheless Arthur felt his heart racing as if he was running uphill.

He was walking in the dusk now. Or limping was more accurate as he needed both the crutch as the support of the sandy cliffs to keep himself upright. Arthur desperately wanted to rest, he felt so tired and keeping his eyes open was becoming ridiculously hard. Yet he knew that if he stopped, he wouldn't be able to get up again. So it was no surprise that he heard it before he saw it.

That awful scratching sound of too many legs on the rocky terrain put Arthur on high alert immediately. He gazed around. The canyon he'd been following was wider where he was standing, the other wall was at least ten yards away and equally steep. Not that he would be able to climb in his condition or run. Ahead where the canyon narrowed again stood a scorpion. It stood there silently, waiting… Yet Arthur could still hear that damn noise.

He turned back around. Several of these creatures, five, six at least streamed into the canyon down the same path he had used. Since when did scorpions hunt in packs? The answer was probably about the same time they grew to the size of a car. Arthur let his rucksack fall on the ground and drew his sword leaning heavily against the wall behind him. His crutch was lying forgotten at his feet.

Strangely enough the creatures didn't seem to be in any hurry. But, now that he thought about it, why would they be? He was completely and utterly trapped. This was it then.

But he wasn't going down easily. In the growing darkness Arthur had one last trick up his sleeve. As swiftly as he was able he tugged a cylindrical tube out of the side-pocket of his backpack. Just when one of the scorpions launched its attack, Arthur ignited the flare and pushed it against the creature's skin. If scorpions could scream this one would as it coiled back and fell down limply. Arthur stretched his arm out and made a wide arc with the red flare forcing the others back as well. Like all animals they had a healthy fear of fire.

Arthur meanwhile had placed all of his weight on his right leg gripping the sword as tight as he could to prepare himself for the inevitable. He vowed to take at least one of these monsters down with him, perhaps he could manage two. The flare had started spluttering and any second now it would stop, plummeting them in darkness and signalling the final attack. Arthur tried to picture Gwen's face one more time but his mind wasn't cooperating. As the light snuffed out he regretted that the most.

It was dark for about a second, time enough for Arthur to chuck the now useless flare at the nearest scorpion and prompt all others to attack. He raised his sword when all of a sudden huge flames flooded the canyon. They bypassed Arthur who in a reflex gesture still pressed himself as flat as possible against the rocks. The scorpions weren't that lucky. They scrambled away as fast as they could and hurried back up the path disappearing once again in the maze-like landscape.

Arthur swirled his head in the other direction. A man was standing in the entrance his hand still outstretched though he lowered it to his side when the last flames disappeared into thin air. The man seemed very old at first sight. He had long unkempt white hair and an equally scruffy beard. Yet Arthur could feel a sort of power or authority or both just oozing out of him that contradicted the strange man's outward appearance.

A small ball of light bobbed up and down in the air next to old man who seemed satisfied with the scorpions' retreat. He stared at Arthur now and the young man fought the impulse to gulp. He wasn't afraid but this felt like one of those pivotal moments in life you only fully understood later. Arthur didn't lower his sword though. He hadn't forgotten the scorch marks on the tunnel wall. Yet as the old man drew nearer there was something about the way he moved and looked that was eerily familiar.

* * *

 **You've all been very patient but he's finally here! : ) And Merlin won't be leaving again!**


End file.
